


Yenicall

by viyeolent (Doxophobia)



Series: Thieves [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Actor D.O., Alternate Universe - Actors, Anal Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Barebacking, Breeding, Cheating, Derogatory Language, Dubious Morality, Emotional Infidelity, Emotional Sex, Explicit Language, Harassment, Heavy Angst, Host Chanyeol, Host Club Patron Baekhyun, Implied/Referenced Bondage, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Masochism, Jealousy, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Prostitution, Revenge Sex, Romance, Sexual Assault, alternate universe - host club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 02:43:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 89,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10178933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doxophobia/pseuds/viyeolent
Summary: Chanyeol is proud to be called the perfect host and even prouder of his sweet, money-making lies. That is, until he meets client Byun Baekhyun who shatters the only rule he has made for himself and soon owns more than his bed and his body.With Baekhyun, Chanyeol isn't a liar.Unfortunately, Baekhyun is unavailable.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

>   
>    
> 
> 
>   
>  A host club and cheater AU based on [this tweetfic](twitter.com/viyeolent/status/693409757424545793) and inspired by the characters from the 2012 movie, **The Thieves**. Originally posted at [asianfanfics[dot]com](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1088650), importing here for ease.
> 
> Please **DO NOT** translate, plagiarize, OR upload on other sites.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baekhyun admits to being guilty of having thought, for even the shortest and slightest moment, that Chanyeol might actually love him more than his real boyfriend does.

 

After a quick shower and a couple of suitcases later, the lock to their apartment settles into place again as young actor Do Kyungsoo leaves for his flight to Shanghai. He doesn't get to see the hurt in his boyfriend's eyes when the latter wakes up. He isn't there when Baekhyun stirs and adds Shanghai into his list of things and places to blame for the empty space beside him, leaving him with only the sheets again and the cum still inside him to keep himself warm.

 

Kyungsoo vaguely thinks of the boyfriend he left asleep on his bed the way one usually thinks of this morning's first meal. To be savored at its serving. Just another seemingly distant memory, afterwards. After that, he feels guilt.

 

He considers sending a message, one that he thinks would make his lover's day, but decides against it when he remembers puppy noises and a pliant body and how he has left them after a night of love. He switches his phone off when he reaches the airport, not knowing that while he waits to board the plane that takes bright, rising star D.O. to Shanghai, Baekhyun switches his own phone on after making sure his face doesn't make him look like he cried in the bathroom.

 

Kyungsoo, not knowing that someone who isn't him is looking forward to spending time with his boyfriend today with the very same enthusiasm he himself used to have when their relationship first started, goes back to filming for a new movie after two generous weeks of paid break in consideration of his birthday.

 

Baekhyun officially starts his day by slipping out of the apartment, wearing just the tiniest amount of eyeliner, while his boyfriend closes his own eyes to catch a wink of sleep that only one of them usually gets at any given point of time. He doesn't think of the man who left, now sitting and sleeping in business-class, but it's difficult not to think about Kyungsoo in the slightest when his tall lover carries him to bed and starts to rain kisses down his neck; not when he realizes the man, with his big, friendlier eyes, is wearing the same pair of glasses he gifted Kyungsoo.

 

Chanyeol stops to ask him what's wrong.

 

Baekhyun doesn't say he remembers seeing the same frame perched on his (real) boyfriend's nose. Instead, he tells his lover it looks good because everything simply really looks good on Chanyeol. He means it, and he knows the man isn't entirely convinced but proceeds to accept it anyway.

 

"I missed you," Chanyeol tells him.

 

They have sex.

 

Baekhyun says it back before he makes the man cum in his mouth and he sleeps contently on top of the giant mass of warmth afterwards.

 

He ends the day by slipping back into the apartment without his eyeliner (because Chanyeol wiped it off) and without Kyungsoo, and while his boyfriend is awake and fully occupied with typing in a message to send to him from miles and miles away, Baekhyun occupies himself with the thoughts of having had another man's hands on him.

 

> _I arrived safely in Shanghai today. We're filming now._

 

Baekhyun finds the glasses he saw earlier on top of Kyungsoo's neat table. He stores it away somewhere he'll never remember to have placed it in. With a weird weight in his heart, he keys in a reply, an _I miss you_ in response to Kyungsoo's noncommittal message, because he admits to being guilty of having thought, for even the shortest and slightest moment, that Chanyeol might actually love him more than Kyungsoo does.

 

He knows his boyfriend is back to pretending to be someone else in front of the camera when Kyungsoo doesn't reply.

 

After a day and sending a shower of gifts to Chanyeol's way later, Baekhyun finds himself waking up to something he thought was just part of him missing the past while settling into the present.

 

"What are you doing?" He laughs a little at the picture on his screen; of his boyfriend standing awkwardly beside his own promotional standee.

 

> _Good morning, Hyun._

 

It's the one that Baekhyun once joked he'd steal from the theater when he misses Kyungsoo too much, and when he realizes it must have been taken secretly or in the wee hours of the morning, he cries. Just a little.

 

> _Let's go to Shanghai together for next time._

 

 


	2. Zampano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol, the real man behind the club's best-selling host 'Zampano', lies about love every single day and yet, has never actually fallen in love before.
> 
> Not until Chanyeol's overdue karma finally decided to do something about it and said, 'Enter Byun Baekhyun.'

  

Chanyeol can confidently say there is a connection between him and the man from the other night, a very natural connection that borders on the unbelievable.

 

He probably should question it. Maybe he should even question how in the world Dream managed to find such a match in him for Byun Baekhyun while at it because it's a _little_ unnerving how it's a tad too close to what his sister would say is a perfect combination. Besides, Baekhyun doesn't at all look like he belongs in a place like Chanyeol's workplace.

 

The establishment isn't _bad._  In fact, _extremely_ far from it. The structure was made to look classy and exclusive, not to mention that the place is well-maintained so it remains clean and safe. He never _did_ ask whether the gold accents were real gold, but the wines he has had from the bar certainly made him partial against other alcoholic drinks. The billiards table used to have his name all over it, now it mostly sits available for the others to impress their own clients with. The lounge gives hosts like him _many_ chances to break the ice and make clients feel comfortable and so, anyone who fails at this should just go and sharpen their social skills. The ambiance is always purposely romantic without being cheap or suffocating. At least, to him, it never goes to that extent.

 

Now, while Chanyeol believes he works at one of the best ventures he could ever hope to land himself in, making money out of what he's naturally good at—and even receiving more respect than he really should for making hearts beat so fast without actually breaking them—he also believes that Baekhyun should be out there enjoying the company of someone who would make promises to him with the intention to keep every single one. A host club simply isn’t the place to start searching for real love, after all, especially not in Dream where you pay to listen to lies as bewitching as the faces that speak them.

 

The club lets him offer the illusion of finding a connection. His arms, his smiles, his words—he lies with them every day to fool people willing to be fooled. After all, who wouldn't want such a pleasant dream that wouldn't disappear after they open their eyes?

 

"Up you go," Kris pretends to kick his outstretched legs off the low table,  _out of damn_ _nowhere_ , and _smirks_ when he almost spills champagne over his new navy blue ensemble.

 

"Go be an ass to someone else," Chanyeol irritatingly grumbles.

 

"That's a _great_ idea, maknae. Why don't you tell Byun I'm free when you see him? Maybe he’d like to try out two giants in just one night?"

 

 _‘This piece of shit’,_ Chanyeol's eyes narrow into a withering glare as he deposits his flute of alcohol somewhere safe and rises to his full height.

 

Everyone else throws glances at their direction, curious about the unfolding clash of the two towers. Before he can grit out a vicious comeback, however, a lithe figure forces itself in the space between he and Kris. It's Suho who shoves them away from each other again. He looks at his shorter senior’s expression, which grimly reminds him of his priorities while inside the club, then at the ugly mug that is Kris's fuckface, before he ultimately backs down and turns on his heel.

 

Dream's most prestigious bachelor reprimands Dream's dark horse as Chanyeol walks out of the bachelors' lounge wearing Zampano's shoes, legs hurriedly taking faster strides the moment he's away from the others' eyes. It's the closest he has come to running because of excitement—or is it anxiety?—in _years_. Curiously, it's just to meet Byun Baekhyun.

 

His haste is just to fetch a shy man from a spacious, Garden of Eden-inspired lobby so that snakes— _men like Kris_ —can't get to him.

 

"Hi—"

 

"Hey."

 

"Uhm. Are you okay? Why are you..?" Baekhyun stares at him, eyes reflecting puzzlement.

 

Chanyeol’s chest is just flaring and sinking in rapid successions and his brows are knit upwards despite the goofy smile of relief scrawled on his face.

 

Because he really _did_ run.

 

Because _somehow_ , he registered Kris as a threat and he didn't want him making a grab at Baekhyun.

 

It's sinking in now how stupid that line of thought was. He hopes Baekhyun doesn't think that he looks stupid. He has a reputation to uphold as Zampano, after all.

 

"Yeah," the host manages to smile while he exhales, blood and nerves calming. "I'm alright."

 

That is until he spots _Kris_ 's favourite walking through the grand doors and he just knows he definitely has to take Baekhyun to their own place now. Or just… somewhere far, _far away_. Where can he take Baekhyun that his senior won't be able to follow, though?

 

He's uncharacteristically startled when all the softness of a delicate hand suddenly slips into his. He looks down and finds that Baekhyun has stepped closer to him. How distracting… Why is he so distracted when it comes to Byun Baekhyun?

 

"I don't want to get lost," his shorter client says and, despite the former being dressed smartly casual tonight, Zampano's heart somehow starts beating faster than it normally does.

 

Halfway into their second session of idle conversations, Chanyeol recognizes how Baekhyun seems to fit so perfectly in his arms. He appreciates it, but he still has to question why his heart continues to race. The side of him he calls Zampano says it's their _connection_ , and he lets himself be appeased by the answer for one more night.

 

Chanyeol notices the hint of eyeliner on those bright eyes and thinks it looks incredible on Baekhyun.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

If this is what a _real_ connection feels like, then Chanyeol can't really blame Dream's patrons for seeking out her unique roster of hosts—men she lovingly refers to as her _bachelors_ —and faithfully choosing to renew contracts. Except that, well, he's not a patron. He's one of those looking through the eyes of someone from the other side; someone who offers only a grade-A imitation of what a connection is supposed to feel like.

 

"I enjoyed tonight."

 

Chanyeol smiles. "Likewise."

 

Byun Baekhyun, older than him by five years. Most definitely lives in a high-rise, upscale condominium with incredible assets in the busy heart of the city, because that image of metropolitan luxury is easily what comes into the common man's mind with what the man modestly said was home. As easy to imagine is the image of Baekhyun lounging in a fancy king-sized bed as a considerably small figure engulfed by even fancier sheets.

 

Baekhyun plays the piano. ' _Used to play the piano_ ,' the man said during their first meeting. Now it's their third meeting and Baekhyun has to admit to being a singer because his voice launches like a rocket into sky-high notes after tripping, just as Chanyeol is escorting him back to the lobby.

 

"Thanks," Baekhyun squeaks as he quickly plucks himself out of the host's arms.

 

_Mm, clumsy... still cute._

 

"You should sing me a song sometime," Chanyeol suggests, standing close to the other who situates himself in the corner of the lift. "Your singing voice must be even better."

 

The younger of the two presses the panel button for the lobby and leans against one of the mirrors making up the elevator's confining walls of diamond glass. His client is doing his best to keep silent, fidgeting all the while. Baekhyun is probably flustered at having let him see so many (cute) slip-ups in the short amount of time they've known each other. It's a rather adorable sight, albeit one that he has to pretend to not see.

 

Baekhyun... definitely doesn't look older.

 

"Are you going to drive tonight?" Chanyeol asks, looking straight ahead at the older man's reflection instead of turning his head. "I think I gave you quite a bit to drink."

 

"I'll be fine."

 

"You sure? You're kind of flushed."

 

Baekhyun blinks his eyes, looking at his perplexed expression through the mirror.

 

He continues, "Can you call anyone to pick you up? Do you have a driver?"

 

The singer only shakes his head.

 

"Why don't you sleep over at my place for tonight? I live alone so it's no problem. I can just drive you back here tomorrow. Or anywhere else," Chanyeol offers, hoping the other will accept. "Sorry, I just don't want anything to happen to you."

 

_Anything bad, especially._

 

Baekhyun is visibly surprised. Maybe even a little bit confused. He must be because Zampano is unabashedly charming and what Chanyeol is doing... gently prodding out of a genuine concern for safety is... well, not Zampano. It _could_  be a ploy. But it isn’t. He normally doesn't care enough about other people to be deliberately cunning.

 

"I mean, of course, if it's okay with you," he clarifies. The lift makes a small pleasant chime before the doors slide open. He holds it for Baekhyun who has yet to move. "You know what, why don't you take my number? If you feel just a little woozy, pull over and give me a ring. I'll be over as soon as I can."

 

Baekhyun seems to weigh in his options and eventually replies, "Are you signing out soon?"

 

Recognizing a chance, Chanyeol appeals his case again, "I'm signing out after I send you off. If you decide to spend the night with me, you wouldn't be a burden at all."

 

Baekhyun agrees, and it certainly feels like a burden being lifted off _his_ own shoulders.

 

Chanyeol drives the both of them out of Dream's vicinity in his modest model of a BMW, which isn't really as flashy as Kris' Audi or as admirable as Suho's Mercedes. A car is a car, and as long as it takes him to where it's supposed to, he doesn't really see the need to look at new models or simply purchase a 'better' replacement. Not that anyone has to know anyway. Besides, all he really has to do everyday is to merely  _look_ the part of perfection.

 

"You okay there?" He asks Baekhyun who is settled in his passenger seat, eyes on the road and occasionally glancing at his side mirrors.

 

"Mhmm."

 

"Let me know if you feel like hurling or anything, alright?"

 

Baekhyun makes the tiniest laugh. "I'm fine. You don't have to worry so much."

 

_I will anyway._

 

"You're not allowed to give me a reason to worry," Chanyeol replies, deep voice adopting its own version of a lilt as he smiles.

 

No matter how complementary he seems to play Zampano with the man's character, the older man just seems to stay tense. He can't really do something about it when he doesn't know where the tension is coming from. Hmm, what else hasn't he tried yet?

 

"Are you sleepy?"

 

"Not really."

 

"Want to hear a joke?"

 

His joke is terrible. Even _he_ admits to have cringed inwardly at it at first, but then he figures it wouldn't harm anyone to share it with Baekhyun. His clients are intelligent people and all intelligent people appreciate puns, admittedly in varying degrees.

 

Moments later and he has his patron laughing with the well-rehearsed jest, even crying a little from how ridiculous it is. The execution makes up for the terrible humor. He makes it a point to remember it because it's the joke that always has his new clients begin breaking their walls down for him to be able to scale their kingdoms' towers and plunder their treasuries.

 

Everyone loves a man with a sense of humor, after all. Tried and tested. Chanyeol can still recognize it working its magic when he pulls into his driveway and leads them both inside his apartment.

 

He discovers that he likes Baekhyun's laugh. He wants to hear it again and again. It makes him chuckle, too, like a man steadily becoming intoxicated.

 

One moment, he has Baekhyun beside him, really and _finally_ loosening up to him with a playful hand at his nape and another beautiful laugh bubbling in a singer's throat. They're stumbling into his living room, tripping over an offensive leather shoe he forgot to put away somehow and leaning closer than what is appropriate for two people who barely know each other. Up close, Baekhyun’s lips are pink and they make a small triangle… and, well, he doesn't remember when his glances turned into an intent stare.

 

He watches those lips move, parting… and they're suddenly much closer. He can smell that brandy he let his client taste earlier after a few rounds of champagne. He holds Baekhyun's waist so the latter doesn't trip again but his eyes flutter close upon instinct as if already anticipating the softness that meets his mouth. He was just about to point out that Baekhyun actually might be drunk, but the chaste press on his lips transforms into a kiss that only deepens when he tries to say something.

 

There’s a line being crossed right now, isn't there…?

 

There must be, because the next thing he knows, he's got Baekhyun on his bed, flat on his back, trembling beneath him. Baekhyun mewls in his hands and moans while he nips at the skin his lips catch, nibbling and kissing a very sensitive neck to listen to more gasps that serve nothing better than to fatten his already huge ego. There are arms wound tight around his own neck and heels painfully digging in the back of his thighs as he continues to ram inside his client.

 

"God, you're tight," he exhales, groaning at the heat around him. It's so hot, it's _too_ hot.

 

" _Za—a-ah—_ ” He can't seem to find a rhythm with the insistence of the man to meet his thrusts, so he's left with using force, to slam into Baekhyun's heat and take as much as he can every time because Baekhyun refuses to let him slide out without whining and dragging fingernails down his back.

 

 _Shit_ , he's going to feel the burn from those claws tomorrow. But right now, he doesn't care. There's just the man twisting under him and the reality of _fucking_ him— _fucking Byun Baekhyun._

 

It's dizzying. Has he wanted this without himself knowing? He hasn't felt this need to ravish someone this much in so long that he forgets he's been trained to please other people. He lives to make them think he's what they need, not to use them for his own satisfaction. But now it's just his dick and the way it relishes the heat, throbbing and wanting release in this slicked hole after all his inhibitions have been flung out of the window.

 

He doesn't even remember how he ended up in a situation like this in the first place, and Baekhyun doesn't really let his mind wander off somewhere else in hopes of remembering. Nothing else seems to really matter when _Byun Baekhyun_ releases the most _sinful_  sounds, whimpering and sobbing with curled toes while still rasping _orders_ in his ear. His pretty client hisses for him to _go faster, harder, faster_ , corners of his eyes damp with tears and mouth preoccupied with driving him even wilder with the way it hangs slightly open like the most obscene invitation. Goddamn, it must be _amazing_ to have those lips around his cock.

 

Chanyeol listens to his desires like a sinful man listens to the devil, relentlessly slamming fast and hard and fueled by the man's desperate cries because _fuck_ , he wants to satisfy Baekhyun even if it feels like doing so is going to end up killing the both of them. Who knows for how long they've been going at it, smothering the air with the sound of skin slapping against skin while the fabric of his pants and boxer briefs are chafing him where they've pooled around his knees. Those follow his missing shirt very soon.

 

He swiftly pulls out from Baekhyun, whose eyes blow in alarm at the sudden emptiness because he looked like he was about to unravel if pushed _just a little more_ , until Chanyeol shoves him to rest on his side and throws one of those luscious thighs over his shoulder and snaps their hips together to _slam_ back inside. It's a mixture of Baekhyun's choked moans and Chanyeol's long, guttural groan decorating the space between them when they finally find their rhythm.

 

Even though Baekhyun's knuckles are white from where they're fisting the sheets right above his head, his urgent pleas have turned into soft sighs, fully satisfied with the steady thrusts that have come back to assault him. Chanyeol maintains his force, hands gripping tight onto the soft, fair flesh of a supple thigh and onto his expensive sheets while he resumes ramming against the sweet spot inside Baekhyun. The sighs quickly rise into another batch of breathless moans, and he climbs onto the bed that continues to rock, eyes drinking in the sight of this beautiful man before he lets himself sink lower to flush their bodies even closer together.

 

"Chanyeol," He breathes, forehead thinly covered in sweat. The man beneath him isn't any better, but the violently reddened cheeks and a thin trail of drool that has escaped the slack-jawed lips do nothing to deter him from finding him _beautiful_.

 

"It's my name," He manages to smile at the bright eyes that now can see only him. "If you're going to moan anyone's name from now on, then it better be mine."

 

 _‘If you're going to moan my name,’_ he growls in his mind, sinking his teeth over a fair, flawless shoulder and licking it. _‘Moan the right one.’_

 

He wants Baekhyun to remember him, he wants Baekhyun to remember how his cock feels inside him. He wants Baekhyun to remember having been fucked like this. For some reason, Chanyeol _wants_ Baekhyun to have a reason to come back to him after this.

 

"Chanyeol," Baekhyun rasps in response to sharp thrusts, as if testing out the syllables the way he first tested the company of a host and quickly came to know he likes it; wants it; _craves_ it. “Ch-Chanyeol—”

 

Chanyeol simply _knows_ it's going to be sore tomorrow—his poor wounded back and Baekhyun's voice—but pushes the thought at the back of his mind. Nothing else matters right now, not when he finally feels Baekhyun tense and the hot walls are suddenly clenching deliciously around him. When Baekhyun cums, it is his name that the older moans. It's a long, butchered version of ‘Chanyeol’ that his voice transforms into a sound that is _still so damn hot_ and beautiful.

 

Chanyeol exhales, both relieved and aroused by the view of the musician's face and bare stomach stained in cum, and releases the milky thigh to pull out and finish himself. He finds his neck wearing Baekhyun's arms around it again and those same thighs trapping him into their earlier position to keep him in place. Baekhyun slides closer to fully sheathe him inside of himself again.

 

"Finish inside me," the man breathlessly whispers in his ear, and before the host can protest, he takes full advantage of Chanyeol's surprise to lock their lips in a kiss.

 

"Wait, Baek—"

 

"It's okay, I want it," Baekhyun rolls his hips in encouragement and smiles as his soft sighs are swallowed by Chanyeol's mouth while he caresses the sides of the giant's face with his own delicate hands. " _Please_ , Chanyeol."

 

Something about that voice makes it impossible for Chanyeol to resist, so he starts kissing back as fiercely as the way this tryst first started. It's a clash of lips and teeth that steadily calms into a slow dance of tongue and the desire to simply touch and be touched as the host feels the knot in his gut coil so tightly. He shudders, pulling away from his lover's mouth to press their foreheads together, those pretty fingers now tangled in his messy hair.

 

He shuts his eyes and just stays close, hands resting on the other's waist as he pushes one last thrust and stills. He groans slowly at the abrupt unraveling of the knot, rolling his hips as they both sigh at the warmth that spreads between them and the sensation of him simply beginning to fill Baekhyun. He's utterly spent and dazed, but even though the host has his own face buried in the other's neck, he can tell Baekhyun is still smiling. Baekhyun’s smile is always… soft.

 

How is that possible?

 

"... You're amazing," the previously soft-spoken singer mutters while further threading fingers in his dark hair.

 

It must be just as a pretty sight to see. Baekhyun. A satisfied Baekhyun must be even more so.

 

Chanyeol wraps his arms tighter around the slim waist and vaguely thinks it'd probably be peppered with bruises tomorrow. "I'm sorry for being rough," he mutters.

 

"Well, I'm not," comes the cheeky, croaky reply before there's a hand patting over his shoulder, reminding him where the red, angry trails of nails are still raw. "I'm sorry for abusing your ears though."

 

"My ears are fine," the host simply chuckles at the sting on his back and finally slides out of Baekhyun once he has regained the ability to stand again.

 

He kicks his pants and briefs off the edge, the only articles of clothing that managed to survive them, and finds himself distractingly admiring the sight of Baekhyun in his humble bed before the chill reminds him to search for something to clean them with. With Baekhyun curled in the new sheets and Chanyeol's arms around him, they both sleep soundly for the first time in a long while.

 

Chanyeol sees Baekhyun in his dream.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

If there's anything he expected to discover the following morning, it is definitely _not_ Baekhyun making puppy noises against his throat.

 

Or Baekhyun using him as a bed.

 

Or Baekhyun to actually still _be_ in his apartment.

 

Heck, he didn't even _consider_ that something like this might happen. Baekhyun might stay, but he just assumed the man wouldn't. Don't people usually bolt after a one night stand?

 

"Baekhyun?" He nudges the smaller man, because he can't sit or actually do anything else that doesn't involve _just_ staying there, but quickly stops because Baekhyun truly appears to find his chest cozy, for some reason.

 

_Chanyeol, what are you doing? What am I doing? I'm still hugging him. Why am I even still hugging him?_

 

"Ya, Baekhyun."

 

"Mmhf..."

 

"Seriously, Byun."

 

 _‘What was that?...Our legs are still tangled together’,_ Chanyeol suddenly realizes, unable to determine whether it's dread creeping up on him or just a strong sense of _‘Ah shit, what am I supposed to do?’_

 

Or are they just the same thing?

 

There's a soft, tiny groan before Baekhyun's eyes flutter open. He looks at Chanyeol, whose own pair of eyes are round and confused, before he simply closes them again and snuggles closer to the host's neck.

 

"Let's talk later," Baekhyun mumbles. He slips back to sleep as easily as sleep leaves Chanyeol for good.

 

"What?" Chanyeol blurts out.

 

The smaller man just smiles and tangles their limbs under the covers closer together.

 

 _What_.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Baekhyun wakes up again after half an hour.

 

And, after an additional hour of uneasy foot-tapping and rummaging through his possessions for clothes the man can wear and for decent food the man can eat, Chanyeol finds himself sitting on his black faux leather couch with a bowl of habitual, anti-stress cereal swimming in rich milk. He hasn't mindlessly consumed this much sugar in months. Scratch that, in _years_.

 

He thinks he can hear the sound of water all the way from his bathroom. Baekhyun's washing up in his shower. Baekhyun is _wet_ in his shower, with water running down—

 

 _Cough_.

 

He almost choked on his soggy fruit pebbles. He could have died. People have actually _died_ under better circumstances.

 

_Get a grip, dumbass. You've handled worse things than this._

 

Well, _yeah_ , but none of those worse things involved any sex. Or a client. And definitely _not_ sex _with_ a client.

 

"What's the worst that can happen...?"

 

Worse is this getting back to his boss, maybe, because Dream bachelors don't sleep with clients. It's not part of the package. It's part of the _other_ bachelors' packages, perhaps, but it's definitely not part of _his_ contract. Ever.

 

 _Okay_ , but what's _The Worst_ that can happen?

 

He tries to distract himself with other thoughts but only ends up thinking, ' _What can feel worse than having been the one to breach the line he himself drew?'_  especially when he spots Baekhyun peeking from the staircase, enveloped in one of his spare bathrobes and hair still... wet.

 

"Hi."

 

Chanyeol places his bowl of half-eaten cereal on his coffee table before he walks over. "Hello," he replies, hands nervously shoved into the pockets of a pair of washed out denim he mindlessly wore.

 

"Is... is this the part where you kick me out?" Baekhyun meekly asks him just as he notices the reappearance of the pants he ripped in his hasty quest to have the singer's legs around him last night, gathered in the former’s arms. "I'm sorry I didn't listen when you woke me earlier. Will it be fine for me to make a call before I see myself out?"

 

"Wh—no!" He winces at the hurt fleeting across the older's face. " _No, I meant to say_ —I'm not going to kick you out. You can stay. I mean, if you _want_ to. I was just… I was surprised. I didn't think I'd still find you here..."

 

 _‘On top of me, at that,’_ Chanyeol's mind readily reminds. "And considering that it was I who brought you here..."

 

As he trails off, Baekhyun picks up, "Is... this some kind of service?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Do I..." His client pauses. "Is the rate higher or—do I have to pay more—"

 

 _"What_ —" Chanyeol chokes on air this time. "You're not being charged. You stopped getting charged the moment I escorted you out of the lounge," and when Baekhyun's brows simply knot in confusion, he continues to explain, "You're in my apartment. I'm not a host right now."

 

"Oh," the shorter man says, before glancing down at the ruined slacks.

 

_He really thought it's just special service._

 

"Oh."

 

 _‘He really doesn't know anything about this,’_ Chanyeol realizes. "Baekhyun—"

 

" _I don't sleep around_ ," they both blurt out at the same time.

 

"A-Ah—"

 

"Let me explain!"

 

Baekhyun withdraws, but not Chanyeol, who ends up shouting, "I don't sleep with my clients. I have _never_ had sex with any of them," _Until now, obviously._ "This isn't—"

 

"Chanyeol, it's fine."

 

The younger man feels something flare up in him, and he consequently bridges the gap between them. " _No_ , it's—look, I'm not saying—"

 

"No, no, I _understand_ ," Baekhyun uneasily smiles, back hitting the wall but still doesn't look up.

 

It's Chanyeol's turn to furrow his brows now. "What do you mean you understand?"

 

The shorter man slightly ducks his head while he hovers over him, and only when they're inches apart does his client look at his eyes.

 

"I'm in a relationship," Baekhyun admits, anxiously breaking the gaze and glancing down at the topless man who claimed the role of his lover last night.

 

"Oh," is all Chanyeol can reply while he steps back from where he has unknowingly cornered the smaller man. _‘So that's why he doesn't want to talk about home.’_

 

"... Is it a serious relationship?"

 

Baekhyun unhesitantly nods.

 

_Oh._

 

Well... Chanyeol... doesn't really know what he's supposed to say after that, let alone _do_ in the succeeding moment of silence.

 

"Is your back okay?"

 

He nods without really thinking in response to his client's query, before ultimately responding dumbly with, "I... I'm sorry I tore your clothes."

 

"You're not going to get me into trouble," Baekhyun reassures and before he can take it the wrong way, the man hurriedly explains, "I mean, his job keeps him very busy. He's stuck overseas for a month, so... he's not going to notice. I’ll have these pants replaced by then.”

 

 _‘So it's a boyfriend,’_ the host mentally notes, somehow surprised. He scratches his nape, glances somewhere else, and offers, "I only have pizza, if you want it. I... already re-heated it. Or I can order something else, if there's something else you might like?"

 

"Pizza sounds nice."

 

"Great," Chanyeol nods, only realizing he _actually_ has to go and lead Baekhyun to where the food is.

 

He retrieves his disgusting bowl of processed sugar, and while he takes wide strides towards the kitchen with his long legs, the singer trails behind him like a patient, new puppy. Baekhyun doesn't say anything while sinking onto one of the yellow stools and perching himself over the counter. Chanyeol is grateful for this, even though he also suddenly misses the noise they make when they get lost in their conversations.

 

"Why Zampano?" the man asks him, and seeing the smaller man like this, without the pretenses and in one of his loose shirts instead of the human suit of an esteemed singer, makes Chanyeol remember he's just like everyone else. "I-I mean, now that I know it's an alias, I'm curious about it. If you don't mind sharing why. "

 

The host throws the remainder of the cereal away and deposits the bowl into the sink while he pushes the thought of Baekhyun being pretty as a man. Baekhyun is strangely pretty in his eyes. One awkward morning after a mind-blowing night _strangely_ still makes this man very _lovely_ to his eyes.

 

He places half of the large pizza onto a big plate which he places in front of Baekhyun, who blinks at him.

 

"Have you ever watched _The Thieves_?"

 

"I haven't. Is Zampano a character's name?" Chanyeol nods and watches as the smaller man takes a bite of pizza before he hears another chirp. "What makes Zampano special?"

 

"He isn't anything special."

 

"You can tell me," the way Baekhyun urges while he munches reminds Chanyeol of a puppy.

 

It's… very cute.

 

Chanyeol likes puppies, so it must be inevitable that he eventually surrenders, "He's just a man in love."

 

Then, he realizes he has unknowingly steered the conversation to an unsettling, if not simply awkward, topic.

 

"Are _you_ in love?" Baekhyun asks, in a way that seems without any ulterior motive behind it and, instead, just stares at him with that perpetual twinkle in those slightly droopy eyes.

 

Normally, this is the part where Chanyeol hooks hopelessly romantic clients to him with a _‘No, but I really hope I meet that one special person soon,’_ to have them begin thinking that maybe it could be them that earns a happy ending with Prince Charming. Maybe they could be special enough that he would leave this life of pretending to care so they could show him how it is to be genuinely cared for. This is the part where he should start spinning his lies and offer them as if he has weaved them with gold, holding the string of a fake connection like it's a promise of forever.

 

He finds himself just shaking his head, however, because he's not in the club.

 

This is his home. He left Zampano when he carried Baekhyun here. It's Zampano who is in love— _hopelessly in love_ —but not Chanyeol.

 

Park Chanyeol doesn't know what it's like to be in love, so why is Byun Baekhyun in his house, sitting across him, and eating his yesterday's take-out like an uncoordinated puppy with its milk?

 

Too lost in his own thoughts, he grabs a napkin and leans across the counter, reaching over to wipe pizza sauce from the corner of the pianist's mouth. Then he remembers the connection, being tense despite the flowing conversations, the sex—

 

"Thank you," Baekhyun tells him with another small smile after noticing the way his shoulders stiffen, letting him back away as if nothing happened.

 

"No problem," Chanyeol mutters, standing to throw the used napkin.

 

He finds the dispenser has been pulled closer to his client when he comes back.

 

"You know, they were originally going to match me with _Kris_ ," Baekhyun speaks again after one long minute of silence, also noticing that the name is enough to disturb his display of an otherwise cheerful demeanour. "Until I personally specified that I didn't want someone who has been suspected or has been confirmed to have bedded a client once before... only one met that requirement."

 

Although Chanyeol's expression remains noticeably dark, his naked shoulders visibly relax. "So they matched us," He concludes, unable to determine whether to take offense just yet, because even though the revelation relieves him— "So... now what? Since I was the only one and obviously I have to cross out my own name now, too."

 

"They're not going to know if I don't tell them. They can't fire you for it, can they?"

 

"They can if they find out it wasn't consensual."

 

"But it _was_ ," Baekhyun argues. "So you get to keep your job."

 

Chanyeol doesn't smile when he crosses his toned arms over the counter and slowly comments, "You're... glad about this."

 

He straightens his back, eyes wary as the other man simply replies with, "I am."

 

"And why is that? Because _this_... what happened last night, changes our arrangement," Chanyeol doesn't trust the way Baekhyun licks cheese off his own fingers and, definitely, not the way the latter stands and bends one knee on the relatively tall stool to lean over the counter for the napkin even though it's _just_ in front of them.

 

"Does it? Does it have to…? It's Dream that personally gave me you," Baekhyun explains, elbows on top of his marble counter and head tilted to one side. "You already know me. And I've decided that if it isn't you, then I'd have no one at all."

 

"But why would you..." Chanyeol begins to say, until his own shirt on Baekhyun betrays him underneath the robe and falls off one milky shoulder.

 

He just _stills_ , brows knotted and eyes fixated on the angry mark of purple on fair skin.

 

 _‘I put it there,’_ he suddenly remembers. He swallows, images of last night rushing into him. _‘There are a lot more there.’_

 

He sees Baekhyun's smile when he forces himself to look back up.

 

He sees Baekhyun's smile.

 

And Baekhyun's enticingly pink lips.

 

_Too close._

 

"I really did want you last night, whether the man you showed me was Zampano or Chanyeol, but I won't pressure you into something you don't want. I won't let what I feel about you, no matter how strong, to... ruin anything. I can forget about having met Chanyeol last night. I can forget about ever having met Zampano, too," Baekhyun quietly but audibly says, unexpectedly laying off him by settling back down his own seat. "But if you ask me to forget then, at the very least, let me keep last night."

 

There's another thick sheet of silence rolling between them afterwards. It's uncomfortable between them for the first time. It's uncomfortable and many _other_ things between them for the first time.

 

"You should watch _The Thieves_. When you have time," is all Chanyeol replies, eyes deliberately avoiding to look at someone else’s.

 

If the blatant disregard and avoidance hurt, the older man doesn't let it show.

 

Neither of them speaks again even while Chanyeol drives Baekhyun home.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Three weeks. Three whole weeks. It's _three whole weeks_ before Byun Baekhyun steps into Dream again.

 

Three whole weeks of Chanyeol thinking about _just_ that one night, making him stuff his washer with soiled sheets every morning and trying to shove the memory of the man writhing in his bed out of his mind; of him fearing how it can possibly mean a descent from what he's been for the past five years into what he has always believed was below him.

 

 _‘I'm a host,’_ he declared while he stared at himself in his shower's mirror.

 

 _‘I'm_ just _a host,’_ he repeated the words until his mind didn't echo a name anymore, but his own thoughts turned out to be little shits too because they were just waiting for the right opportunity to blast the name along with the sound of the right voice—hell itself luring him with a fallen angel's voice.

 

Baekhyun hadn't looked at him that way before. Baekhyun hadn't really even looked at him before. Baekhyun just kept his gaze low and anywhere else that wasn't his face.

 

 _Because he already has someone to look at that way_ , his mind cackled, and he knows it's useless to ask now, but he wants to remember who pulled who down first. Was it he who threw Baekhyun on his bed in the first place or was it Baekhyun who pulled him to it?

 

_Does it matter?_

 

Yes.

 

 _Yes_ , it does, because Chanyeol doesn't sleep around. Zampano doesn't touch his clients. Park Chanyeol doesn't _fuck_ people who are _already_ in a relationship.

 

(But how much of that can he even call the truth anymore?)

 

It is three _fucking_ weeks before Chanyeol gets Byun Baekhyun alone, pressed up against the wall inside of the bathroom's cubicles while he stares back at him with surprise. It is surprise quickly mixed with equal parts of fear and consequently; of the bullet-speed idea of running away. It might as well be because, in the very next moment, he crushes their lips together into a searing kiss.

 

Geez… he scaled this kingdom's wall after having been enticed by gold but, instead of treasure, he had gone and whisked away the king to throw over his shoulder.

 

He feels hands clawing into his chest, whether it's to shove him or to tell him to come closer, he doesn't find out until he's drawing back, a string of spit connecting them and breaking as he licks his lip while the older man covers his own mouth with a hand. They begin to catch their breaths but he doesn't give Baekhyun space to start thinking he can escape from this. He keeps the singer trapped between him and the wall, hands firm and burning against the skin of slender wrists. He's not going to let Baekhyun run away now.

 

Chanyeol cannot will himself to even pretend to smile when he remembers the appointments, wanting someone to call for him to fetch his client from the lobby and knowing he's most definitely going to be stood up again.

 

_"You just disappeared."_

 

"I didn't think you wanted to see me. You—" Baekhyun croaks, trying to wring himself free. Upon realizing he can't, the former simply goes lax and looks up pleadingly at him. "You looked so angry. Last time, you didn't say anything so I didn't—"

 

"Stop making this _just_ about me," the host snaps. "You should've—it's not—you just _don't get to decide_ about something _like_ this by yourself!"

 

_Because if you really have a boyfriend, then this will affect your relationship._

 

_Because this also affects my job._

 

 _'Because this definitely affects me in the way it shouldn't be_ ,' he doesn't say, because saying it makes him feel like it’s too real; too complicated. He has just found the person responsible for messing with his head and he wants it to remain where it's supposed to stay on his shoulders for—for this. He cannot possibly let this, _whatever this is,_ mess with him longer than it has to.

 

"Then decide now!" comes the shout, and he watches Baekhyun's eyes steel into a glare. "Tell me how wrong it was. Tell me it was a one-time thing. Tell me that you didn't enjoy it, _that it's something you want to forget,_ so I can also put it behind me. _Tell me_ to forget."

 

Chanyeol doesn't glare back, although he frowns. "I just _kissed_ you."

 

"And you’ve _already_ fucked me," the older man answers sharply. "I don't... If you... If it's what you've been waiting for, then just _say_ it. Just _reject_ me—"

 

"You want me to say it, Baekhyun? Then I'll say it. So _listen_ to me," Chanyeol effectively shuts him up with another kiss, biting his bottom lip and pushing the words into his defenseless mouth.

 

"It _is_ something I want to forget. I want to forget about you ever being on my bed more than _anything_ ," he mouths against the soft whimpers, _hard_ —almost to the point of being painful—and _so fucking frustrated_ while their lips are forced to open up to each other.

 

The scents of their colognes have already clashed and wrangled together to cling onto their clothes— _Baekhyun on him, him on Baekhyun_ —and the silence is constantly threatening to break from the tiny sounds and the muffled gasps.

 

"I _want_ to forget you—" _and how absolutely incredible it felt to be inside you_ "—but I _can't_."

 

And he feels something snap in him, inside, just _somewhere_ , when he feels Baekhyun start to push back. He's got his client trapped in a corner and kissing him back just as hard that he cannot possibly walk out of the door without having people blatantly rejecting the excuse that he just went to wash his hands, _literally and figuratively_ , especially when those said hands are already sliding down to Baekhyun's sides; down to grasp and caress clothed hips, and even lower to finally hook them behind soft, ample thighs. Then he's hoisting them up, hoisting Baekhyun further up against the wall, and a pair of arms clings onto his shoulders while he keeps planting kisses in that sinful mouth, before moving down to the column of a neck.

 

"What are y—" Baekhyun tries to speak, only to find himself tilting his own head to fit into the mold of the host's lips and keeping up with a hungry kiss.

 

"I tried and I _couldn't_ ," Chanyeol hisses, actually the one helpless despite being in control. "Because I _did_ enjoy it. I _enjoyed_ having sex with you. Now all I can think about is having you again. I want another night with you, and I _just_ —"

 

He unlatches from the singer's mouth with a wet smack, long enough to start taking deep breaths as he throws his head back just as Baekhyun's lolls forward in violent pants. They're grinding their hips together, working each other fast to completion over the confining fabric. It's _painful_ , but _fuck_ if it doesn't feel good.

 

Baekhyun tries to free them, to wedge a hand in between them so it'd stop hurting, but at the same time, it just feels _so damn good_ to rock his hips against the younger that his vision is swimming and he's trembling and his hands simply return to clench over broad shoulders. It's Chanyeol who manages to do it, and in no time he has arms and legs vicing around him as he's firmly pumping both of their weeping cocks together with a rough, firm hand, _pumping_ until they both reach their peak.

 

The wall creaks but _thankfully_ doesn't break as they both find release, dripping in Chanyeol's hand.

 

Suddenly he is grateful that he locked the bathroom even though nobody really uses it because it's farthest from the main lounge, where most of the people usually roam in. He doesn't want anyone walking in on this, especially not on Baekhyun while the man looks dazed and used; boneless in his arms. He doesn't want anyone catching him washing his hands and wiping off what amount of white has managed to cling onto them before he's helping Baekhyun to his feet, with their junks where they're supposed to be.

 

It's just silence, afterwards.

 

"Say something," he says, all the ferocity he displayed earlier now gone as he crouches in front of the older man who chooses to just stay down.

 

It's a long moment later when Baekhyun talks. "Now you know how I felt when you wouldn't speak last time."

 

That shuts Chanyeol up quick.

 

"You're _unbelievable_ ," Baekhyun adds after a short while.

 

The fact that his client purposely leaves it ambiguous whether he's actually seething inside or just dejectedly tired or—or _something else_ , makes Chanyeol _really_ anxious.

 

"I-I know. I'm terrible. I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to lead to... whatever just happened," the host has no choice but to relent, sighing softly. Before the other man can start to interpret his words, he looks straight at Baekhyun's eyes and continues, "But it's not a mistake. And neither is that night."

 

When Baekhyun returns his stare a little more intensely than he has ever really expected and quizzically tilts his head ever so slightly, Chanyeol stands and reaches into his own back pocket.

 

“What… what do you mean?”

 

"I just wanted to talk. I kept waiting for you, you kept making me wait. I should have had you the following day. You weren't there. You didn't show up for three weeks," He explains, hand clenched around what he just retrieved. "And to be honest, that made me angry. Because that night just happened and, although I know how to handle difficult clients, I didn't know how I’d possibly handle you. I didn't know if I was _even_ going to have a chance to handle you because you just... didn't come back."

 

"You wanted to talk _here_?" Baekhyun asks him as he's crouching again, most definitely questioning his sense of propriety now.

 

 _‘Sorry, Zampano,’_ Chanyeol feels his lips quirk into a tiny smile. "It had to do?"

 

He watches Baekhyun open his mouth, as if to loudly respond with an expected _‘Are you for real,’_ only to close it.

 

Baekhyun's lips are still red… and a bit swollen. Just the right kind of swollen. And they _really_ are very red.

 

"Won't you talk to me now?” Chanyeol asks. “Can we still talk about it? Or have you come because you've decided to have the paperwork void?"

 

"I came for you," he hears Baekhyun reply, more resolutely this time but still evidently wary while he inches closer.

 

“Good, I wanted to hear that,” He thinks he can hear the man's heart stammering while he reaches for one of the pretty hands and a palm opens up for him. He merely smiles at Baekhyun’s puzzlement while his client stares at the card he places in the latter's hand, a black card faintly shimmering with the tiniest specks of gold.

 

  _A bird...?_ Baekhyun guesses as the man scrutinizes the faint embellishments on the elegant card, looking at Chanyeol questioningly for the umpteenth time without receiving any answers. He goes back to the card again and discovers more letters at the back when he holds it under the light, in certain angles. He can make out wings… is that a Z? And then an A... M...

 

"Zampano," Chanyeol finally supplies for him.

 

“Oh.”

 

It slightly irks Baekhyun now how the host seems to just assume he already knows everything about Dream and how it operates _when in fact_ , he actually doesn't. He knows very little aside from the facts. He knows it's a host club. He believes it's surreally _filled_ with handsome men. He acknowledges he has to pay for Ch— _Zampano's_ company.

 

After he confirmed Dream is an actual, reputable establishment with an actual, trustworthy management that takes its patrons and its employees seriously, he hasn't really thought to look beyond the lobby made out to be the Garden of Eden. He doesn't actually know about Dream's system and its preference to referrals. He doesn't know he had himself matched with a gold-level host or that he already secured himself access to the exclusive El Dorado lounge of the fourth floor by deciding on Zampano. He doesn't know what _this_ card means.

 

How Chanyeol stares at him makes him feel like he _should_ know about this.

 

But he doesn't.

 

"What's this?"

 

"Our talk."

 

"How is this—"

 

Suddenly there's darkness and… something soft. On his lips.

 

Just like the memory of stirring in the middle of the night, vaguely fearing he would find himself alone in a big bed, until he discovers strong, warm arms around his waist.

 

"I think you should look up what 'talk' is in the dictionary..." Baekhyun mumbles as he opens his eyes, exhaling the quietest of sighs… his lips are tingling while he returns the stare.

 

Chanyeol knows what talking is. He remembers being 'talked' into staying in bed by puppy noises against his neck and a warm body on top of his—all before his own hands turned cold for having held a pair that already belonged to someone else.

 

"Should I look up what 'faithfulness' is, too?" he replies with a stab to both of their chests and, with a hand over his client's, closes his fingers over the card in Baekhyun's palm. "Tomorrow. Fifth floor. Our time."

 

Three weeks. Three whole weeks. _Three whole weeks_ of wanting this to be _just_ a connection.

 

_This should just be a connection._

 

"Don't lose it until you want to stop kissing me back."

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Baekhyun doesn't kiss him back when they're staring at each other again the following night… because he hasn't kissed him. Yet.

 

Chanyeol—kind of, maybe, really—hopes he won't even after the door to his 'room' has beeped and he discovers the man who is just standing at the other side of his door, stiff and upright on the plush, red carpet covering the floor of what makes for the bachelors' restricted fifth floor instead of pushing it open.

 

"I'm glad you figured out how to use the lift," He says as he pulls Baekhyun to him, just to force the older man to move his feet _inside_ instead of merely keeping them out there.

 

The automated door makes a beep again as it slides back into a lock.

 

"What is it?" He prods, recognizing the fidget that Baekhyun is making in front of him, then the latter turns away and begins to wander around restlessly.

 

Chanyeol supposes he can let Baekhyun walk around until his client feels like speaking to him. He doesn't let the other man wander too far, though, because truthfully, they're both strangers to this…  _room_ , which is really a full-scale apartment more fully furnished as a dream home than _just_ a room. It goes on and on, however, the hide and seek.

 

Although he’s proud to say he can fake many things, including love and patience, he can't actually fake them all the time. He's not really in the mood to fake anything tonight. Really, he's just not nice enough for that.

 

So when he ends up stalking Baekhyun in the kitchen, he crosses his arms by the doorway and guarantees that the exit remains closed.

 

"This is a house," his client comments, still not looking at him.

 

"Baekhyun," Chanyeol frowns, especially when the other man takes a step back just as he takes one forward.

 

"Did something happen...?" He grabs Baekhyun by the shoulder, holding onto a wrist once he realizes that the man is going to keep toeing around it unless he takes it upon himself to initiate something— _anything_. "Talk to me."

 

" _This_ ," Baekhyun holds the card he gave, realizing that giving up is the only thing there is again. " _This_ shut the elevator close. Then it said Dream. The elevator told me to _Have a nice Dream_."

 

"It’s _supposed_ to do that,” he explains. “What about it? Why do you look so worried...?"

 

"I… _Why_?" His client sighs. "Because now all I can think of is how I dreamt of _you_ last night. It wasn't the first time, but I couldn't… I mean—it wasn't _supposed_ to be—"

 

And it's worse, somehow, to think that Baekhyun is tired. Maybe Baekhyun hasn't been visiting him these past weeks because Baekhyun is already tired of him and was simply letting himself be thrown around by him. Yesterday could've been a chance.

 

"You could've called. I wouldn't have minded."

 

Baekhyun shakes his head. "He called me last night. I—I wanted to talk to him last night."

 

Chanyeol goes silent, lowering their hands but not letting go. He can't determine if it's his palm that is cold or the wrist in his grasp. _‘What are you doing? Talk and get it done with.’_

 

Suddenly it's like they both think they're too close, with only a hand to connect them and a card to separate them. That's the point, though. Getting close… but not _too_ close. Not _this_ close.

 

He lets Baekhyun go.

 

"You do your job too well, you know? And I _really_ dislike how I can't even blame you for it. I suppose I was just stupid to have expected anything less in the first place," the older man tells him, eyes wrinkled into smiles of their own; too bright. "When we first met, I heard what the other clients called you. A dream."

 

Chanyeol considers this, having heard about it before, and only replies, "A dream isn't real."

 

" _You are_. You're real and yet you're still too good to be true."

 

_You don't know that._

 

He steps closer.

 

One step.

 

Two steps....

 

Until Baekhyun hits the counter and his client's only option left is to look up at him who's now adamant on keeping them close.

 

"The things I said yesterday, about wanting you, none of them were lies," Chanyeol confesses as he tips his head forward just so slightly and slides his hands on the marble counter on each side, gaze straight and fixed on the person right in front of him.

 

"I have a boyfriend," he hears Baekhyun say, and they both feel something twist inside of them while the latter stares at him—waiting for his reaction, gauging his expression.

 

The hands over his chest are warm… forceful enough over the black fabric that makes up his loose, sleeveless shirt, just to keep him from completely bridging the gap. Baekhyun can push him away, he has a choice here. They both do. But if he’s a dream come true, if he's _just_ a dream, then why would Baekhyun push him away?

 

"I'm just your host," Chanyeol answers, and it comes out more defensive than intended when all he wants is for someone else to reinforce a truth he himself has already started to doubt. _‘I'm just the host you'll happen to kiss and sleep with.’_

 

He waits for Baekhyun to say something. To argue, to reject him, or to push him away with the hands he keeps on his chest. What he gets, however, is someone who merely stays there and lets him inch even closer until the tip of their noses brush. Baekhyun waits for him to make the first move, lidding eyes halfway and tilting his own head if he chooses to have him.

 

Of course, he chooses _yes_. He shortly claims the soft lips that are soon very eager for his and he groans lowly in response to a mouth opening up for him.

 

He brings his own hand over one of Baekhyun's smaller palms, easily prying it open for the black card in it while he leaves his client's mouth to leave kisses down the latter’s neck. He smiles at the shudder that Baekhyun's responsive body makes as he continues to make nips here and there, before he finally sucks down hard on the middle of a milky throat to make his mark and earn himself a sultry moan. He pulls away and is met with the sight of a blush and a pair of eyes.

 

Before he can take a good look, however, Baekhyun wraps arms high around his waist and hides himself in his broad chest.

 

"I want you," His client mumbles, pulling him a little closer. "I know it's selfish of me, but I want to have you."

 

Maybe Baekhyun remembers yesterday, too, as clearly as he does. The banter, the way he spoke of the word  _faithfulness_ and made pinpricks form in their chests… the things they shouldn't have done, the things they shouldn't continue to do. In this very moment, he realizes temptation is real and its name is Byun Baekhyun.

 

 _‘Think about the consequences,’_ Chanyeol reminds himself as he returns his client’sstare; a dare to press forward. At the back of his mind, he knows he shouldn't be doing this. The only thing that comes to mind, however, is _want_.

 

He wants to be this close to Baekhyun. He wants how their lips keep finding themselves locked in the most indescribable kisses, over and over again. He wants to keep listening to Baekhyun's way of saying his name.

 

If this man was born for the sole purpose of tempting him then, maybe, he was born to be a sinner.

 

"Unfortunately for you, I'm selfish too," Chanyeol responds as he licks his client’s lower lip, sighing, before he rests his chin on top of the shorter man's head. "Just so you know, you're the only person I've brought in here."

 

He listens to Baekhyun make a small and muffled noise, which is much like a tiny puppy’s whine, really. He smiles before snaking an arm around the other's hips to slot the card into the back pocket. The hand stays there to play with the red button-down tucked into a pair of black and fitted jeans, gently tugging it until it comes loose.

 

"The card key is my token. You can come see me here even when we're not scheduled to meet,” he explains to the person in his arms, both sure and unsure for the first time in his life. “If... if you want, I'll show you where else you can use it later. Dream won't replace it, so you have to take care of it."

 

His token is the only reason Baekhyun can even reach this floor, _Dream_ , because only the best hosts get a room for themselve. A token makes a client different than the rest of the paying market. It gets you past security, past all the walls, and away from eyes that know to look the other way once they see it. In a way, a token is better than gaining access to the golden lounge of the fourth floor, where the select hosts of Zampano's level are gathered, because a token means you're a bachelor's _personal_ _favourite_.

 

The card… it's the closest to an announcement of ownership over a bachelor there is, and only gold-level hosts get the privilege of picking a favourite as a gift from Dream to their best. For bachelors like him, having a favourite would connote becoming exclusive, but there's really no other way than this. It doesn't affect their duties or responsibilities because they still lie and make empty promises every day, but it _does_ mean wanting to be _just_ that one client's dream—being their _favourite’s favourite_ —at the end of the day.

 

Dream lets them pick one every year. Just once every year. Chanyeol has never given his token to anyone before. He has never had a favourite.

 

Baekhyun is the first...

 

Right now, he believes Baekhyun is going to be the only one.

 

"But this doesn't change anything," He quietly says against the side of Baekhyun's neck, kissing along the latter's jaw and the sensitive skin just below the ear. "I'm still just your host, and you're still someone else's."

 

 _‘Someone else's,’_ his mind echoes when he slips his hand underneath the shirt, roaming to explore the smoothness of skin there and pressing open-mouthed kisses over the older man's hardened nipple through the inconvenience of clothes. Baekhyun releases a gratuitous moan once more, hands finding their way into his hair and shuddering when he grinds their hips together. The hand on his scalp trails down to lace behind his nape and guide him back up into another kiss.

 

"Is this okay then?" Baekhyun asks, mewling and reciprocating the seductive motion of his lips while fumbling to get his shirt off and tugging on his stubborn belt.

 

Chanyeol does himself a favor and helps his lover by throwing his own shirt over his shoulders, flinging it away, and pulls the one still wrapped around Baekhyun. The belts come undone, forgotten before they could even meet the floor, and he guarantees that Baekhyun's pants disappear next as he licks his lips. "You want me. I want you. Is that okay with you?"

 

 _Is this being_ just _about having sex okay with you?_

 

"Y-Yes," is Baekhyun’s shaky answer once a hand envelopes his cock and lets a tongue return in his mouth.

 

He carries Baekhyun out of the kitchen and fucks him on the sofa. Baekhyun pulls him into the bedroom afterwards to ride him. All night, it's just sex and the raw and selfish desire to have someone else for themselves.

 

Sex with Byun Baekhyun is the first thing Chanyeol has Zampano's bachelor pad witness. He doesn't mean to let this place turn into someplace they can commit the same sin over and over again without guilt, but nonetheless, it's sex that his room will smell like in the following months after the first time he has listened to a kitten mewl and scream his name.

 

During that first night, he holds Baekhyun as if it were natural for him to find rest with this man; as if his hands have been made solely to fit Baekhyun's. In contrast, Baekhyun clings to him with a curious kind of desperation, like he'll slip out of bed during the night and be gone in the morning. Somehow, he doesn't mind comforting his new— _his only_ —favorite with his own warmth, even if it makes the man wake and re-discover reasons for his toes to curl.

 

Baekhyun is lonelier than what he lets on, and it keeps Chanyeol awake for a little longer to think about what lies beyond the half-truths; about the things he wouldn't have ever known if they hadn't slept together in the first place because Baekhyun only pays him to talk. He gets paid to act and to talk like they've always been in love. Baekhyun _pays_ him to love him in the way that Baekhyun might have already been loved before, in the way Baekhyun's boyfriend is too busy for now.

 

Maybe it's a mistake, giving Baekhyun his token.

 

Maybe it's a bigger mistake, not questioning why he finds himself buried to the hilt inside Baekhyun again.

 

Maybe it won't happen again, marking and enjoying each other's bodies in just one night while they willingly start to forget why it shouldn't be happening in the first place.

 

When Baekhyun has to leave the following morning, he recklessly kisses him as a goodbye. Just as carelessly, Baekhyun pulls him down and kisses him back. It's a kiss, _a connection_ , that’s too deep and amazing that it makes Chanyeol decide to not worry about things like consequences and possibilities.

 

He wants this. _Now_. He wants what he wants, and right now it's Byun Baekhyun who wants him just as much.

 

Maybe this is a mistake.

 

But maybe this isn't even going to happen again.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Except it _does_ happen again. Not just once, or twice.

 

It happens every time they're in the same room, even merely breathing the same air. They almost never stay in the lounge anymore because there's a palpable tension in between them, a gentle stroking and calling out to touch that abruptly escalates to thick suffocating ropes of _want_ —violently tugging them and screaming for them to _just_ have each other. Whether it's riding the elevator to his room, on his floor, the sofa—after their eyes meet, after the first of the friendly brushes of fingers against hair—the very moment one of them comes close enough for an arm to grab hold, _it just happens._

 

Chanyeol quickly learns he is weak to resist Baekhyun when the latter has pushed him down. He's much weaker once Baekhyun has already unfastened his belt with nimble fingers and has pulled him out of his confines. He can't even react fast enough to the sight of this singer who’s the _real_  sex on legs, pouring lube over his own fingers, or at all.

 

Baekhyun gives his half-hard cock a few swift strokes and coats it until it's slick and throbbing. Then the man drizzles more onto his own hand and bends over closer, almost as if to kiss him. His favorite doesn't kiss him, however, only smirks teasingly and starts to stretch himself. There is no such thing as resistance when he has front row seat to _Baekhyun_ pleasuring himself with his own fingers, especially when he finally has Baekhyun lean back and begin slamming down on him and releasing dulcet moans the moment he finds _that_ pleasurable spot. He wants to burn this image into his memory—Baekhyun becoming more and more desperate as he digs his fingers into the tender flesh of a slim waist and fervently follows the rhythm of succulent hips.

 

"Ch-Chanyeol, I'm close— _I'm_ —" Baekhyun doesn't even get to finish before his own mouth turns slack, toes curling and nails making new scratches on the expanse of his exposed torso.

 

 _Fuck,_  how can Chanyeol resist _this_? Seeing Baekhyun writhe in ecstasy and the expression on his face when Baekhyun cums because of him? How can he possibly resist something he wants when it just as desperately _wants_ him to have it?

 

"Chanyeol, d-don't pull out yet— _please_ —" Baekhyun pleads when he lifts the latter up by the hips and watches as his own stiff, slick, and reddened shaft slowly reveals itself again.

 

His sweet singer whimpers at the feeling of his cock sliding out of the wet and trembling hole; at the emptiness after being stretched so full. His lover attempts to slam back down, but he keeps him in place. He pushes Baekhyun's face down his neck, forcing to half rest on him while Baekhyun's ass remains up and exhaling hushed consolations while guiding his own pre-cum covered cock all the way out and leaving only the hard tip. He pulls even his cock head out, slapping it over his lover’s needy entrance.

 

"F-fuck you, Chanyeol," Baekhyun manages to hiss despite the trembling wracking his body and the need for his support to continue this position after the orgasm.

 

Then Baekhyun inhales, half-crying at the sensation of a hard, leaking cock tracing his rim, all before sliding _so fucking slowly_ in between his abused cheeks, pressed together by two large hands. That feels _too fucking good_ , he _needs_ that cock in him. He bites down painfully on Chanyeol's shoulder to make his demand known.

 

" _If you're not going to_ —"

 

 _"I'm already fucking you,_ babe," Chanyeol growls through clenched teeth and the unwelcome jolt of pain.

 

 _Fuck_ , that hurt. He doesn't know if his shoulder is bleeding, but he supposes it doesn't matter that much. Baekhyun can hurt him all he wants, it's not like anyone else can see what lies underneath his suit the way Baekhyun does anyway. Besides, he has already promised to himself that he'll never hurt this person back.

 

This is the only time he'll allow himself to yank Baekhyun by the hair, with just enough force to affix the man's gaze on him. He wants Baekhyun to look only at him.

 

"You want this, Baek? You want me in you?" He teases the man with his hard tip, pushing it just barely through the ring of muscle, and listens to Baekhyun immediately sob a _‘Yes, yes I do, please’_ as his favourite tries to force the dick past the seedy entrance. He lets his client try, just try, and brushes his lips against the shell of the other's ear in a sensual bite and whisper. "Then just think of me right now. No one else."

 

_Just think of me when we're together. Don't think of your boyfriend. Don't ever think of him with me._

 

For a short moment, Baekhyun stares at him, eyes searching for something beyond the lust.

 

For a split second, it makes his chest close in on itself. He thinks Baekhyun will say no. He's almost _so_ sure Baekhyun would say no but, instead of leaving, Baekhyun only brings hands up to cup his face and crushes their lips together.

 

The kiss is wet and warm... irresistible, and overwhelmingly distracting, just like the person who initiated it, and yet he lets himself be pulled in anyway.

 

It's not a yes. Chanyeol _knows_ it's not a yes.

 

"I want you," His lover answers with a pant.

 

He pretends not to know that it _still_ isn't a yes. This man shouldn't even be in his arms, riding his cock and always demanding for it as if it has always been his. He shouldn't even be thinking of this right now.

 

Why is he even thinking _at all_ right now?

 

Baekhyun sinks against his throat, resting on the crook of his neck and licking where the earlier bite is throbbing in pain with the flat of a tongue, before he lifts his own hips like a good boy. His good boy.

 

"Chanyeol, please." His favourite actually begs. " _You're_ the only one I want right now."

 

_Ah. Why am I so weak?_

 

Chanyeol flips them over, trapping the smaller man underneath him and guiding his dick, already so wet with cum, to take another dip inside his lover's heat. He notices the eyeliner has smudged in the corners of Baekhyun's eyes, one more than the other, and he drags a thumb to gently wipe both, one after the other, even though it fully contradicts the way he finally gives Baekhyun what the man wants and _slams_ his cock back inside. He goes hard and fast, and he just knows Baekhyun's going to be too sore to walk right after this again.

 

Being rough is the only thing that makes Baekhyun scream his name… sex is the only thing that keeps his name in Baekhyun's mouth. While he wears the marks of the man's nails on his back and teeth on his shoulders, he leaves his own marks on Baekhyun in return, but he knows—he _knows_ that he can never truly have or leave anything that lasts.

 

(In all aspects, one of them can't get tied down because the other already—and _always_ —is.)

 

Afterwards, Baekhyun falls asleep in his bed again. He lets Baekhyun sleep for however long he wants, because he has only ever really used this room to give this person a reason to stay longer beside him. He wants to believe that his arms feel like the home that the real boyfriend's have once felt like. Maybe someday, he'll be home.

 

Maybe Baekhyun is just using him. Maybe Baekhyun really just believes that it's because he's the club's best-selling host that he's a wonderful lover instead of attributing it to something that is possibly deeper. There cannot possibly anything deeper between them, but it doesn't stop him from being there anyway.

 

Chanyeol still stays beside Baekhyun, whether his favourite is awake or not, he stays wherever Baekhyun can easily come to him. This time, he's here to place soft kisses on Baekhyun's neck and massage Baekhyun's sore back with only the thought of making any amount of pain disappear before his favourite has to wake up in the morning and leave. The fact that this cannot mean anything more than sex definitely doesn't stop Chanyeol from slipping under the covers and naturally becoming the big spoon to the other's little spoon; so Baekhyun doesn't wake up alone and begin searching for someone else's warmth.

 

"You know, when I said I want you to think only of me, I really wanted you to say yes," He softly says to a quiet room and a pair of unhearing ears and continues watching Baekhyun sleep. _‘I wanted to hear you say that you think of me.’_

 

This isn't Zampano's heart racing in his chest anymore but Park Chanyeol's.

 

"Sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"You're _really_ too good at your job, you know?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"I don't know, it's just... sometimes..." smaller Baekhyun squirms and snuggles closer to reach his shoulder, seemingly in thought, before his favourite turns to blink those eyes at him again. "You make me feel like I should just be with you."

 

At the sight of Baekhyun's small earnest smile, Chanyeol feels his heart make a dive before it settles for a wild and impatient marching in its cage. He swallows silently, hands gripping a little tighter around his client's slim waist under the covers. His mouth refuses to cooperate, rendering him mute, so he plays off his sudden speechlessness by faking nonchalance.

 

"The other night... when Kris entertained me before you came, you looked like you were going to punch him. I haven't ever seen you like that," Baekhyun hums and links their fingers together without much thought. "You really don't get along, do you?"

 

"He's an ass," Chanyeol just replies, silently appreciating how their palms fit together instead of paying attention to the drumming in his chest. _‘Don't beat that fast.’_

 

"Were you _actually_ going to punch him?"

 

"Frankly, I would have," _I’d break a finger for every place he says he’d touch you_. “I’ve been wanting to break his nose for a long while.”

 

Somehow, that earns him a kiss on a cheek. It... doesn't really help his apparently hopeless cause of keeping calm, especially when he can all but _feel_ his favorite's smile. He wonders why that is. It's not that special, after all.

 

"I think I get why. He made me uncomfortable, but if you had really punched him then it would've gotten you in trouble so I'm glad you didn't."

 

 _‘It'd be worth it, though,’_ Chanyeol can't help but think, stealing a glance at the man beside him just before he can get caught looking.

 

"Having you for a boyfriend must be nice... _really_ nice..." Baekhyun continues to speak despite his lack of vocal response.

 

He supposes that, if his favourite hasn't pointed out how quiet he’s been recently then the fact that it's rather easy for him to be flustered still remains to be his best-kept secret.

 

"Sometimes, I think, it’d be nice to go out on dates with you. You can take me to places. I'm not really hard to please," the beautiful, _beautiful_ man in bed with him laughs a little… what a cute sound. "I'd end up enjoying wherever it is you'd take me to. I guess. You're always fun… Honestly, sometimes you _really_ make awful jokes, but that's okay. That's what makes you cute. Even if you _do_ talk like a bear.”

 

“A bear,” Chanyeol repeats, although he’s aware that he should’ve been more offended by the slight insult made against his sense of humor. It's just that, that minuscule amount of offense he had taken simply… disappears the moment he sees Baekhyun smile.

 

“It's your voice! It's so deep and loud!”

 

“And that's a good thing?”

 

"Yes~ I feel safe with you, and just imagining you being with me… we can always do something else afterwards~"

 

Before he can muster a reply, his favourite rolls on top of him, all soft, right kind of plump, and _delicious_ weight laid over his own taut muscles.

 

"How about you on me...? Though _inside_ is always the best, isn't it? Dates should be enjoyable, after all, so I want you to enjoy, too," Baekhyun smiles so sweetly and innocently… the mischievous glint in those bright eyes tells him otherwise, however, and he already knows to smile when his bed dips even more because the man climbs on top of him and fans a hot breath right by his ear. "A ride sounds nice right now, doesn't it, Yeollie...?"

 

Chanyeol takes a deep breath when the man lowers himself and his collar bone meets the bashful latching of Baekhyun's sultry mouth, moving confidently up to his neck. He drags his hands to travel from smaller shoulders, downwards to knead the pair of smooth, supple mounds of flesh leading down to the most _sinful_ thighs. A little satisfied, he hums a groan at the languid trailing of a wet tongue, watching Baekhyun close his own eyes while tasting him until the puppy's tongue reaches his jaw.

 

He waits until his lover pushes up to reach him, before he forces Baekhyun to keep his eyes closed by taking him with a hungry kiss and slipping his own tongue into Baekhyun's willing mouth.

 

"That'd be nice," Chanyeol chuckles, sending a pleasant rumbling in his throat that makes the man in his arms whimper.

 

"Every time you come home, you'd be wobbling in with your ass dripping of me," he mouths in between every need to part, and Baekhyun's original attempt to tease him prematurely dies in the wake of his favourite’s own muffled moans, elicited by his lips molding and mercilessly taking Baekhyun's swollen pair for himself as he explores and ravishes the captivating mouth for the umpteenth time tonight. "Hmm… but I don't know. Does _that_ sound nice, Baek? Not even being able to sit, just staying in bed all day because you've been fucked _so_ hard… is that what you want?"

 

" _Yes_ ," Baekhyun lets out a tiny sob as he grinds himself against Chanyeol, who only lets him pull away to be able to admire how his pink lips have turned red and used for being so irresistible.

 

Trembling slightly, he stares at Chanyeol's lips, sees them flushed because of him, too, then at the younger man's deeply brown eyes, before he unwittingly parts his mouth to moan because the host presses him down to rub them together; against each other.

 

"Oh god… yes, that's—it'd—be _so_ nice," He shudders because there's a growing hardness beneath him, Chanyeol is so hard for him again, and it makes him release a sound that is a cross of a long sigh and a breathy moan at the memory of the full length being inside his mouth and being inside of him. "I'd sit on your cock all day, Yeol. I'll—"

 

Chanyeol growls, low and _so deep_ that Baekhyun has to harshly bite down on his tender bottom lip because it almost pushes him to his brink. It's so unfair for a voice to be enough on its own to already bring him to ruin. It's too much for him to listen, especially when he sees that the unbelievably charming smile is now also gone, replaced with a silent ferocious scowl.

 

"I'd let you fuck me everywhere, Yeol. _Everywhere_ ," Baekhyun exhales hotly, eyes half-lidded and gaze heavy with lust. "I'd suck you off, wherever— _whenever_ you want."

 

He wants it. He wants that. He also wants the look of surprise on Chanyeol's face that tells him he's _just_ thought about it too, and it makes him think and _want_ the image of Chanyeol _bending_ him over— _just fucking him until he can't stand_ —to become reality even more. He has long stopped caring about how dirty or obscene he looks in return, he always becomes so lewd when he's with Chanyeol.

 

He loves the way Chanyeol always stares at him so intensely, _so possessively_ , while he slides his hands down the toned chest to help himself up. He's still covered in the man's cum from their earlier trysts, and yet he's already sitting once again on Chanyeol's hips, with his legs spread wide to boldly rub the length of Chanyeol's blunt cock against the cleft of his ass. He loves it. He loves _this_.

 

" _I want you in me_ ," Baekhyun inhales with a cheeky smile, a wild blush dusted on the swell of his cheeks when his own cock is hard and heavy in one of his hands. "This time too, I don't want you to pull out."

 

He pants, while enjoying the sensation of having Chanyeol press against his back, utterly quick to stand at full attention. He slightly leans back, licking his lips as he starts to stroke himself. He feels himself getting hotter at the intensity of Chanyeol's gaze on him, and he lets his head loll to a side to expose the view of his milky neck before he swoops in to steal a kiss, smiling, "I really think you'd make a great boyfriend."

 

_But not yours, right?_

 

The lone bruise of passion shamelessly stands out on fair skin, and while Byun Baekhyun can only think of the cock pressing itself against his quivering entrance, Park Chanyeol suddenly thinks of what an _actual_ boyfriend does.

 

Chanyeol thinks of what a _good_ boyfriend should do and the differences between that, _being that_ , and what he does for Baekhyun. But _now_ isn't the time for it, _for any of it,_ because Baekhyun is so close; so, _so_ close. He wants to be the one to show his favorite what real satisfaction is so he _shoves_ it _, all of it away_ , to make new marks over the ones that have already faded and pumps the beautiful man in his arms full of him until Baekhyun has no choice but to tip over and spill.

 

When it's over, when it's just him alone in his room, the one that _doesn't_ have _Zampano_ engraved on a golden plaque on its door, that may or may not be real gold, and isn't guaranteed to reek heavily of sex three days a week, Chanyeol simply peels off his shirt and lets himself fall atop his clean bed.

 

He's tired. He's fucking boneless if he could be completely honest. But he's also elated. Even more when a personalized ringtone floods his ears and he finds the image of Baekhyun smiling on his screen because now there's also a text there saying Baekhyun _did_ forget something in his room, but nonetheless, he's tired; even though he laughs a small laugh; even though he _knows_ that if Baekhyun ever calls to say he'd come over (no matter how impossible because Baekhyun knows _so little_ about him), he would most likely stand again to welcome Baekhyun—with or without the aching—because the name _Baekhyun_ is always enough reason to him.

 

It's Zampano that got him through the rest of the night, just barely to get back to his real apartment, but Zampano readily left Chanyeol who still has to deal with the thoughts from earlier. The thoughts he shoved away hours ago while he relished having and listening to Baekhyun, they're now resurfacing from the depths of whatever part of him it is that is also in charge of his overwhelming amounts of denial.

 

Chanyeol also has all the thoughts of him as a boy, _as a man_ , the laughable chances of him and Baekhyun being friends (and _just_ friends), and the thoughts of both of those thoughts put together to make up one giant and utterly unreachable concept.

 

 

> _How would it be if we were together?_

 

It's through Park Chanyeol's eyes that he suddenly sees himself back in his kitchen. It's the morning after the first night they shared. Except that, here, he's reaching across the counter in his washed out denim to kiss Baekhyun who's fresh from the shower and wearing nothing but one of his loose shirts, all the while a plate of pizza lies somewhere, forgotten.

 

 

> _Tell me, if this is love._

 

From a distance, he watches Park Chanyeol smile because Byun Baekhyun calls him _his boyfriend_.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

They don't really see each other every day. They see each other _often enough_ , but there are times when _often_ doesn't feel quite like _enough_.

 

He can't really do anything about it. He has his work as a host while Baekhyun has his own life to live outside of being his favourite client and Dream. It's not like it matters that much to begin with, anyway.

 

Sometimes, though, he _does_ consider being the one to text first; the first one to call. He has the noise of his queued shows and the crunch of popcorn to occupy him during free time, more often than usual now. He doesn't get the luxury of lazing around as often anymore and _should_ probably miss and enjoy it much more than he does recently, but all of it just seems to fall flat against the thought of having Baekhyun's voice to listen to.

 

Free time is the best time because of Baekhyun, who somehow makes listening to someone excessively talk about unnecessary things for hours always seem like a good idea. He revels in the rare moments that his favourite isn't in such a hurry to get into his pants while they share the same bed. Simply, next to showering his special client with a certain kind of affection, _anything outside of having sex_ , Chanyeol likes listening to Baekhyun's voice.

 

"And then—what is that?" His favorite abruptly ends the interesting chatter, staring right at his face. "You… wear glasses?"

 

"Mm, I don't really need it, but a client gave it to me. I thought it looked nice. Would've been a waste not to use it," he explains with a scrunch of his nose. Upon noticing the silence and the tiniest fleeting look on his lover's face, he follows up with, "You don't like it? Does it look bad?"

 

"It looks great," Baekhyun _does_ respond, yet doesn't continue the rather animated blabber.

 

It's always obvious when his favourite doesn't like something, so Chanyeol speaks again, "You don't seem to think so. Just be honest with me."

 

"I'm not lying. You look great in everything, Yeol."

 

"Then why aren't you looking at me?" He asks, leaning against the headboard. "Come on, look at me then."

 

"Can't I want to miss your face for a few minutes?"

 

"You don't really get to decide that when I can only have you for a couple of hours, babe.”

 

Baekhyun glances at him, seemingly in thought—he has that look memorized now, really—before the former crawls over and removes the suspected offending Cartier Panther glasses to banish it to the bedside table. His favorite finally half-pouts in unmasked disapproval and mutters, "Then _you_ don't get to decide whether to wear things like this during our hours."

 

"And why is that?" Chanyeol raises a brow while he rests his large hands over the familiar waist. He pulls the other closer, back to his lap, so he can nuzzle a sensitive neck with the tip of his nose.

 

"Tell me," He insists when he receives no reply. "I asked you a question, dear."

 

He gives the pretty neck a little nip before he slides a hand over one of Baekhyun's, guiding it lower down.

 

"Chanyeol," The older warns, but otherwise doesn't put up much of a struggle. It's like playing with a puppy that yips before it demands belly rubs, to be honest.

 

Chanyeol watches a faint blush appear on those cheeks, keeping his gaze straight and his own expression controlled until they reach his very prominent bulge. He makes quick work of his own belt and yanks the rest of the clothes down, just so he could fish himself out and place Baekhyun's hand over the curve of his now happy cock.

 

" _You_ get to tease me, to drive me up the wall _every time_ you get me alone, and now you also get to dictate what I _can_ and _cannot_ wear?" He questions. "Sounds a _little_ one-sided, don't you think?"

 

"What, when have I ever? Have you ever clocked in at work and entertained your clients _without_ your pants?" Baekhyun retorts, putting up little resistance when the younger tugs both of his beautiful hands to wrap around the long and needy member. "Walking around shirtless around the fifth floor isn't enough?"

 

" _You'd_ like that, wouldn't you? Easy access to this," the host teases above the sounds of hands starting to pump him _just_ right, thumb rubbing and pressing over the slit of his head.

 

Baekhyun pointedly looks at him in, closing eyes as they both lean half-way to share a kiss. It's just a peck, really, because his favorite is quick to pull away to scoff. "If you like the idea of _everyone_ seeing how much you love me _sucking you off_ in the lobby, then yes."

 

The mental image of his favorite kneeling between his legs and looking up at him with a mouth full of cock—Chanyeol feels his dick twitch at that, now truly rock hard and full. He leans closer again, lower to ghost over the unmarked neck. "I should've realized earlier you're the type to be possessive."

 

The other pauses, taking a quick glance at the pleasure only beginning to build up in his face, before looking away and working the length in noticeably faster strokes.

 

"I missed you," Chanyeol says. He knows better than to ask, but proceeds to do so anyway, "Does that bother you?"

 

Baekhyun only answers after a while, all focused on getting him off.

 

"It doesn't," His favourite says before adding, a little hesitantly, "I missed you too."

 

"I haven't seen you in two weeks."

 

"I've... _ahmm_ ," it's cute, the way the older meets him halfway when he experimentally leans in for a kiss. It's a little sloppy too, with him naturally wanting to dominate and Baekhyun finding himself with another man's tongue down his throat when the man isn't that good at multi-tasking to begin with. "I've been preoccupied."

 

"So preoccupied you couldn't even send a text?" Chanyeol questions, lush lips now red, and makes a little grunt at the sudden flick of a hand over his tip, smearing the rest of his length with pre-cum.

 

Baekhyun just laughs, bobbing his encircled palm a good number of times before sliding it off.

 

"I didn't know you were the clingy type."

 

_You don't know a lot about me._

 

"Because I'm not."

 

_Though I didn't know a lot of things about myself either before you came._

 

"Says my big puppy," his favourite coos at him, and Chanyeol pretends to bite the former in return.

 

" _You're_ the dog, _always_ wanting to hump me."

 

"Because you're a very attractive bone. _Just look at you_. Your face should be illegal. You shouldn't look so good all the time," Baekhyun mumbles after a few moments, giving the pulsating dick a firm stroke and lapping the thick leak of pre-cum before creeping closer to his mouth.

 

"Oh, you think I look good all the time?"

 

"Don't you start right now, Yeol," the singer laughs again. Admiring the expression that is weirdly only half of a comely scowl, he straddles the younger's lap, smiling, "So, do you want to cum in my mouth or in me?"

 

Chanyeol gapes. "Wow, you're actually giving me choices today?"

 

He receives a pinch on his nose in response.

 

"Just choose, you big dick."

 

"I'm very flattered you think so," Chanyeol bubbles with a boyish chuckle, pressing their lips together in a short kiss. He doesn't mind tasting himself when it's Baekhyun's mouth, but Baekhyun likes it a tad less. So before his lover can begin to complain for his sake, he rains fluttering kisses down the column of his favourite’s neck and relents. "Wrap your lips around me, babe. Let me have your pretty mouth today."

 

He hears Baekhyun's breath hitch, knowing how the older is easily turned on by his voice, and nudges the latter to go down on him. Baekhyun immediately obliges, and he affectionately strokes the side of his favourite’s face and tangles a large hand in the crown of incredibly soft hair.

 

Baekhyun licks his lips and stares at the swell of hard cock, feeling it twitch in his hand and glancing back up at the host before latching onto the leaking tip. It hits the roof of his mouth with less grace than he intended, but he easily makes up for it as he slowly takes it in and tastes just the tiniest hint of sweetness tingling the tongue in his wet, hot mouth. With the host's fingers in his hair, he proceeds to engulf the length of a younger man's dick. He moans and closes his eyes as he gives it a pleasurable suck. It sends a shiver in them both, and he swallows the delicious sound of Chanyeol's deep groan while he relaxes his throat to better accommodate the cock in his mouth.

 

Chanyeol is starting to believe it's Baekhyun's face that should be illegal. Having sex with Baekhyun should be illegal. Nobody deserves to fall under the spell of those eyes or to be left so boneless after having a taste of that body. Even with just his favourite’s mouth, he can't help but hiss and cave into becoming a victim; simply a man for Baekhyun to derive pleasure from.

 

"Come on, baby," Baekhyun encourages between breaths and slow bobbing of his head, careful with his own teeth while blowing with gusto.

 

Chanyeol throws his head back at the _feeling_ of Baekhyun hollowing his cheeks and just being _so eager_ to swallow his every drop. Nobody but him should know the sounds that Baekhyun makes or the way the man can get so vicious and desperate for what he wants. No one else should know this side of Baekhyun.

 

"A-ah, Baek—" his grasp sharply turns into a grip as he tries not to mindlessly fuck into the older's mouth like a madman when the latter deep-throats him again.

 

Baekhyun lets him, eyes open to watch his lover succumb to lust and unravel. He keeps his gaze on the handsome face that's tense in pleasure and glistening in sweat. Moaning to send a small vibration down the cock in his mouth, he spurns the host to release and doesn't struggle when Chanyeol just keeps him down.

 

Chanyeol curses when he sees the man watching him, just watching him with a mouth full of dick and cum dribbling out of its corners.

 

"You don't have to—"

 

— _swallow_ , is what he meant to say, but Baekhyun is already leaning away from him to keep him from doing anything about the white falling off his favorite's chin, even slapping his hand away when he tries to make a wipe.

 

Baekhyun makes it a point to have him see his own apple bobbing as he swallows the cum in his mouth, tongue peeking to lick the little amount it can reach. It's...  _hot_... and Chanyeol feels his heart leaping while he blinks his eyes and struggles to say something. He remains speechless as the older reaches over to retrieve the pair of glasses before the latter climbs back onto his lap again to slip it on him. 

 

"I'm sorry. I think I got a little cum on it, but it still looks great on you, of course," Baekhyun smiles, arms resting over his broader shoulders.

 

"I look better on you, though. And _you_ ," The man drags a tip of his finger over the bridge of the host's nose, over slightly reddened lips, before slipping it through his delightfully swollen own. "... look even better on _me_."

 

Chanyeol gulps.

 

He takes Baekhyun in the shower later but finds his own back against the glass and his dick in the man's mouth again, and he starts to think he might actually like fucking a mouth and cumming in Baekhyun's pretty little one a bit more than he likes seeing himself inside the amazingly tight ass.

 

He doesn't think it's strange how Baekhyun seemed to suddenly want to spoil him today. Instead, he just lets the singer sleep on top of him, perched on his lap and head resting against his chest. He lets his favourite cuddle close to him while he stays awake to watch the drama Baekhyun suggested to binge-watch in the first place.

 

 _‘It's my_ _favorite_ _!’_ Baekhyun had said. He didn't doubt it with the way his favourite bounced on top of him in excitement.

 

But now, he's too busy listening to Baekhyun's steady heart beat to pay attention to the young, owlish D.O. as the boy defends his on-screen mother from his abusive father. Soon enough, Chanyeol is also dozing off, with Baekhyun safely in his arm, and closing his eyes from D.O.'s disapproving gaze on his home theatre.

 

The day after tomorrow, Dream informs him he has received more gifts.

 

And by gifts, he's surprised to discover a couple of boxes of genuine Berluti leather shoes and more boxes and bags of designer clothes; all _coats_ and tailored _suits_. There are a few ties and a Rolex watch thrown in there somewhere, too. No receipts. No notes. No way to return them.

 

He thinks nothing of it until after he drives back to his place, once he's done scrutinizing them all and is left staring at them.

 

They're all from the brands he has only told Baekhyun he likes.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"Do you like them? Have you tried them on yet?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"The clothes. Did you get them?"

 

"Oh," Chanyeol instantly remembers. "Yes, I got them. Thank you."

 

He hears a tiny noise, like a puppy trying to whine menacingly and miserably failing, before Baekhyun is in front of his face again, pouting at him.

 

"You don't like them," His favorite accuses.

 

"What? I do! I just didn't expect you'd give me gifts, or that many..." Chanyeol explains, reaching out to the singer who slips through the attempt he makes to grab at the latter's waist. He resists the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm saying the truth! I like them! I'm even surprised you know my size."

 

"Oh, I _know_ your size alright," the older man coyly smiles before stealing a peck from his lips and slipping out of their—his—bed.

 

Chanyeol feels like the tips of his ears just burst into flames.

 

"You're such a tease, you know that?"

 

"You love it," Baekhyun cackles, and it still is both so adorable and attractive that any plans to argue simply surrender before they can even step onto the battlegrounds. "Your height is scary, but you get flustered easily. It's very cute."

 

_You're always cute._

 

The host watches the man bend over to pick his clothes from where they've been previously forgotten—boxer briefs flung to a corner, belt and pants thrown a few feet from the bed, a shirt curiously caught on a wall hook. His own pants are probably the only article of clothing guaranteed to survive Byun Baekhyun's hands. Everything's a mess.

 

"Why would I love having a professional clothes shredder?"

 

"Because the shredder loves getting naked and dirty with you," Baekhyun offers before throwing the white, wrinkled button-up over his own shoulders. "Seriously Yeol, you're tall and stupidly handsome. Dream's suits are exceptional but on your off hours, you _really_ can do better than your t-shirts."

 

 _‘Some of those shirts are my other clients' gifts,’_ Chanyeol thinks but doesn't say, not really sure how Baekhyun would take it. "I... didn't think you paid attention to them."

 

_Or to me._

 

"I pay attention. I just don't look like I do. How do you think I know your size?"

 

The younger of the two eases back onto the bed, feeling a little warmer. That makes him happy. That _really_ just made him happy. That... That shouldn't make him happy.

 

"You won't see me in them though. Your gifts, I mean."

 

"And why is that?"

 

"It's not like we can meet outside.”

 

_It's not like you'd agree to meet me outside of Dream._

 

"Oh. Like a date?" Baekhyun asks, back turned to him who's left sitting on the queen bed and whose chest constricts with hope that only one of them really knows is there. While the host feels a weight forming over his shoulders for wanting something he'd never get, the favourite only feels the hug of jeans over his own thighs as he wiggles back into his pants. "Well, why don't you send me pictures?"

 

"I am not ruining those clothes."

 

"Ruin them? Why would— _oh_. No, you pervert! I just want to see how good you'd look in them," the older man laughs. "I meant _literally_ just you wearing them! Geez, what have I turned you into?"

 

‘ _What_ have _you turned me into...?_ ’ Chanyeol is silent as his eyes bore into the sight of the man's mouth, curved upwards into a smile.

 

He feels himself smiling, too. Maybe he _really_ does feel like smiling, but looking at Baekhyun now, staring _just_ at Baekhyun because he knows he only gets to do it for hours on certain days of the week, makes him feel like there's something else. There's a lot of _something else_.

 

"Come here," He simply says to the man he can't call _his_.

 

Baekhyun crawls back to him, and there's the fabric of his clothes now to keep the palms of his hands from touching what's underneath. "Your voice sounds really nice, you know? I wish you'd talk more. Or tell me what to do more often."

 

‘ _But I would rather listen to yours while you talk all day_ ,’ Chanyeol immediately thinks. “You really like it, huh? Being treated so roughly before cuddling.”

 

His favorite smiles that pretty smile again when Baekhyun replies, “Only when it’s you.”

 

Ah...

 

What's worse than having sex with a client? Than having your body crave for them the moment they leave?

 

Than discovering your body dictates what is right or wrong now based on how close it can push and pull and flush against the person who blurs your weak mind's lines, regardless of how long it has managed to keep the boundary between who you are as a person and who you are as a person making a living?

 

"Baekhyun."

 

"Hm?"

 

What's worse than knowing you're happier in those few hours you get to spend with them than you have ever been at your highest points in life? Than admitting that being with them is making it impossible for you to even imagine being with anyone else anymore...?

 

"How long am I going to wait this time?" Chanyeol asks, voice too quiet while the singer lets his hands slowly roam where he thinks the dress shirt is tucked neatly into jeans until he reaches the man's back and finds a vulnerable spot.

 

Baekhyun watches him closely, relenting when he pulls the man closer to him to have the wayward shirt tucked in properly.

 

"That’s it?" His favorite laughs again. "You had to look so serious for a shirt?"

 

"It's _your_ shirt. Who knows when it'll decide to elope with mine."

 

"Ha-ha, you think you're funny," Baekhyun comes to fully straddle his lap, letting him slip his tongue into his mouth immediately to tangle with his own.

 

Unlike any they've had before, this time it's a real... _kiss_. It's slow, gentle, and sweet; just warm hands on a slim waist and soft hands on broad, naked shoulders and the willingness to simply savor the moment.

 

"Another two weeks," Baekhyun finally answers. "Maybe three."

 

 _‘That's too long,’_ Chanyeol almost says.

 

Instead, he just keeps the man in an embrace. Like this, it's quiet in his room. It's quiet but still comfortable, even a bit soothing. Unlike the ending of their every night, he decides he can learn to like this. He can like this kind of silence.

 

_Will you think of me for even just once during those two weeks?_

 

He breathes in the scent of Baekhyun's cologne, now intricately mixed with his. As he unbuttons and pushes the shirt open again to place butterfly kisses on the singer's shoulder, he thinks of the impossibility of what he wants. He brushes his lips against the smooth skin and thinks about wanting to stay like this with Baekhyun in his arms and without feeling the need to hurry; with Baekhyun softly sighing while letting him shower him with an unexplainable affection.

 

He doesn't think of why he can't leave proof of having touched Baekhyun's skin or why Baekhyun's leaving earlier tonight. He knows what he feels for Baekhyun is both more than just an insatiable, burning desire to be _inside_ him. It's _even more_ than _just_ a genuine, lingering hope to be able to _be_ with him.

 

Chanyeol knows now, that _utterly worse_ than the mistake of having had sex with a client, is the possibility of being in love with them.

 

It's admitting that he is, _that he most definitely is_ , in love.

 

"Chanyeol...?" Baekhyun's eyes are filled with concern when they stare back at his own because he has suddenly stopped, just suddenly embraced the man he cannot call his tighter, _tighter_ than he has ever done before.

 

He doesn't say anything no matter how many times he's asked. How can he say anything when he just wants to remember this moment as it is? After it's gone and it just becomes a memory?

 

 _Stay_.

 

The worst thing is that Chanyeol realizes _, all this time_ , to him, it has _only_ ever been love.

 

_Just stay with me tonight._

 

He's been in love from the very start.

 

_Please._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. It's Chanyeol who proposed this physical relationship.  
> 2\. Technically, Chanyeol is doing his job... just with added benefits.  
> 3\. If we think about it, Baekhyun only knows what Chanyeol shows him and, thus, only knows the confident and charming host who goes by the alias, Zampano.  
> 4\. Baekhyun only gets to visit when he has time... and, of course, when his boyfriend isn't around.


	3. Adagio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Chanyeol, it's just a less than ideal encounter with a stranger.
> 
> For Kyungsoo, however, it's the painful first meeting with the man that his boyfriend is cheating on him with.

 

"Humor me a bit, Zampano. What is it about you that makes you irresistible to cute and short people?" Kris pesters him the moment he arrives in their lounge, already situated by the bar.

 

Of course, being the courteous maknae that Chanyeol is, after seeing the lounge of El Dorado clear of any clients this early in the evening, he spits out a, "What the fuck are you on about?"

 

He even throws a glare towards his obnoxious senior's way in safe measure. His blood is already rushing with the worry that Baekhyun might have dropped by without the two of them meeting. He would seriously introduce Kris's face to his fist if he finds out the other host had been leering at his favourite again. Hell, _someone_ wouldn't have a face to show anymore if _said someone_ attempts to corner Baekhyun in the elevator again.

 

"I guess your temper's the only thing short about you if Byun would rather have _you_ than me," Kris mockingly laughs, and _wow if Chanyeol doesn't feel his ears start to fucking ring._

 

As if possessing a weird kind of sixth sense with regards to brewing troubles concerning Kris, Suho walks right in, heading straight towards the bar to extract the glass of whiskey from the taller host's grasp. "Drinks are made available upon clients' request," the latter reminds, earning himself a disgruntled rolling of eyes.

 

 _‘No getting pissed this early in the evening,’_ is what Suho says in a much nicer way.

 

Kris throws his hands up in surrender, because it's useless to argue with Dream management's favourite host, and stalks off to wherever the piece of shit wants to go. Suho just saved both of them from trying to mangle each other's insured faces. _Again._

 

Because _of course._

 

"Hey. Are you lost?" They hear Kris interestedly say, diverting the remaining two hosts towards the direction of the grand doors.

 

"I was escorted here," a stranger flatly replies, seemingly looking for something, with his flaming red hair for a crown and a Cosby sweater over where an Eton 80th anniversary dress shirt peeks underneath.

 

Chanyeol thinks the glasses look rather familiar. _Eerily familiar_. Are those _Cartier Panther_ glasses...? The newcomer is short, shorter than both he and Kris and, although neither of them squirms, they both acknowledge that the stranger possesses an aura as colossal as a miffed Suho's. In some way, they all feel intimidated.

 

"Do you know your type?" Kris asks, because his gruffness and perpetual cocky face _is_ the guy's selling point.

 

Suho really should handle this but the gears are already turning in Kris' head. The tallest host somehow knows how to pick 'em, all tiny and cute. In all honesty, though, Chanyeol thinks the guy simply has a size kink and probably an even bigger thing for hard-to-get tiny and cute.

 

"It's not whatever you're supposed to cater as," the stranger glances at Kris, gives the latter a once-over, before stepping towards Suho in dismissal and making Chanyeol bite the inside of his own cheek to keep from sniggering like the immature boy he really is.

 

Kris being rejected is always entertaining, after all. Well, it is until they all see the black card in the short man's grasp and Chanyeol catches himself before he could frown, aware that the eyes are on him now. His gaze zeroes in on the sight of his token, hand suddenly itching for his distant phone.

 

"Matched," Suho announces before he discreetly pulls Kris back inside in the guise of a conversation between long-time acquaintances. Kris makes sure to throw a pointed glance at them both, smirking and mouthing ‘Couple item?’ while making a gesture that looks like a pair of glasses.

 

"Follow me," Chanyeol, suddenly isolated, fixes himself a courteous smile.

 

It's all convincing charm despite the stiffness he personally feels as he leads this man outside of the lounge. That's what he's supposed to do, after all. To bring this man holding Zampano's token to Zampano's room is what the rules tell him to do. He strives to be professional when he can't achieve perfection, although right now, he admits to himself that the only thoughts in his head are those along the line of, _‘Did something happen to Baekhyun?’_

 

_‘Does Baekhyun know he lost his token?’_

 

_‘Did Baekhyun... let this man borrow it?’_

 

_‘But why would Baekhyun let anyone borrow something like his token...?’_

 

"Who are you?" The stranger questions, gaze lodging itself in his back like a sharp arrow.

 

"Zampano," Chanyeol replies with another trained and flawless smile. "Unless you already have something else in mind?"

 

What he receives is a guarded and somehow dismissive glance, as if he hadn't really understood the query, before they both step into the lift.

 

"Zampano is fine."

 

He doesn't remember ever meeting this person but, although very vaguely, he feels like he has seen him before. Just… somewhere. He _really_ feels like he has, he just can't force it beyond the tip of his tongue. He will just have to wait until this impromptu session is over before he checks up on Baekhyun, he supposes.

 

"I just found it lying around somewhere," The stranger gestures to the card in his own hand, looking down with a puzzled expression. "Might have been a friend's."

 

 _‘Lying somewhere? Where? Why? Where was Baekhyun?’_ Chanyeol distractedly thinks as he resists the urge to mindlessly nibble on his lip. _‘Why were you with Baekhyun in the first place?’_

 

But he can't ask. This stranger might not actually know Baekhyun, mentioning Baekhyun's name could be a violation of trust. He can't probe for information without disclosing his favourite's status as a client. Baekhyun could get in trouble and he doesn't want that.

 

"I was escorted to the fourth floor. The attendant just smiled when I asked them about this," The shorter man says, staring at his reflection through the elevator’s walls once more.

 

 _‘Because it's a token. It's bachelors' responsibility to orient clients about it,’_ Chanyeol replies without words. He keeps his shoulders straight and his lips curved while he explains, "It's special privilege. The staff from the lower floors have only been oriented to lead elite status customers to the fourth floor."

 

"I see. So, you're... a host? You work in the fourth floor?"

 

"Yes."

 

It's unnerving, passively listening like this and waiting... for what? He doesn't even know.

 

"A philosopher. A rather interesting choice of alias."

 

He nods as they step into his room after the lock beeps. He... doesn't really like seeing someone else swipe his card, let alone witness his door’s betrayal by readily welcoming someone who _clearly_ isn't Baekhyun. Having someone else in the place that's supposed to be only for the two of them… it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

"It's uncommon to come across someone who wouldn't associate it with Kim Soo Hyun first," Chanyeol fakes amusement, realizing he might as well start his lies now even though he feels smaller in the other's presence... somehow.

 

"That is true. I suppose Soo Hyun's character from _The Thieves_ is more popular."

 

"Ah, you've watched it?" He quickly scans the apartment, deeming it more than presentable before regarding his guest with another smile. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

 

The other remains a cross of politely reserved and mildly curious as the former makes a nod and settles on the couch. "I have. I enjoy films."

 

" _Oh_ ~ Refreshments? Do you prefer mixed drinks or..."

 

"I'm fine. I won’t take much of your time."

 

Chanyeol finds that quite... odd. People normally want to prolong their stay in Dream. It’s not a matter of being financially able when the patrons of his level are all guaranteed able to afford his services, after all. He doesn't mean to belittle anyone, it's just that the lower ranked hosts of the floors below are better suited for first-timers.

 

"Dyo. Call me Dyo," The stranger supplies once the former has caught him staring, before proceeding to regard the interior of his bachelor pad with careful appraisal. "So, what is this place...? Considering you work as a host, as you've said earlier... I assume that Dream is a host club? Is that correct?"

 

"That's right."

 

"I see. And what is it that you normally do as a host?"

 

"I entertain clients," Chanyeol replies, noticing the fleeting suspicion in the other's eyes that is quickly replaced by intrigue, so he decides to humour this man and takes a seat at the other end of the couch. "It's different for everyone, but I really just talk, regardless."

 

 _‘I doubt that,’_ Dyo brings a hand to his chin, as if considering it. "You _just_ talk?"

 

"Yes," Chanyeol answers all the while doing his best to appear earnest, then he hints, "Did you have other things in mind...?"

 

He wants to see this person squirm… he dislikes other people in his space, to be completely honest. He _definitely_ dislikes anyone prying into his personal affairs even more. He’s quite certain that this man isn't _that_ interested in him, even less so in the romantic sense. No matter how immediately cut short, the hardened stare just now was still directed at him.

 

Those eyes may be rounded and inquisitive, but they're sharp and steely. Dyo’s eyes are the very definition of daggers.

 

"Is that what this place is for? A talk? This place is quite spacious for just two people to talk," Dyo questions, tilting his own head curiously at an abstract painting and scrutinizing every inch of room his big eyes can land on again. "I suppose you belong to the upper bracket to have a place like this. Do you normally bring clients here?"

 

"I do not," Chanyeol responds truthfully while he also avoids incriminating himself, trailing after the man this time. "Only those with the card key may step in here."

 

That seems to catch the other's interest. Whether it is the man's intention to let him notice this remains to be seen. The bedroom is upstairs… where this stranger’s gaze lingers longer than a few seconds to be merely dismissed. Dyo's prominent eyes and reserved aura manages to make the man's every gesture more... intense. _Much_ more intimidating.

 

Chanyeol feels heavily scrutinized, even though this stranger only really looks at him with the hope of getting the answers to his questions. He feels undeniably challenged. He wants to prove himself as being better than whatever he appears to be to Dyo, and it's getting into his nerves. He doesn't understand why he feels _so damn threatened_.

 

Dyo, with the same diamond encrusted silver frame perched on the bridge of his own nose, continues to stare at him before dragging the weighted gaze from one corner of the 'room' to a corner of the ceiling. He looks back at Chanyeol after doing so, smiling. He seems amused. "I commend the interior. The soft lights can make for a rather romantic night."

 

"Oh?" Chanyeol retorts. Perhaps, a little too quickly. "I've not thought of it that way."

 

That's a lie. Of course he has. Dim lights bestow a sense sensuality to atmosphere, and he _always_ wants Baekhyun to be in the mood with him.

 

"Really?" Dyo wonders loudly. "It makes your presence stand out more."

 

As if to conveniently prove the point, Chanyeol finds himself lured into a corner of his pad. He's a mouse that has just realized he walked right into a cat’s trap. Something at the back of his mind begins to nag him. Too loudly. It's instinct, maybe, that all but blares at him in warning and commanding him to get himself out of there. _Right now._

 

Dyo slides a hand up to his hard chest, over his crisp dress shirt, and curls fingers around the black tie tucked into his black vest. Before he could start to process this, momentarily stuck between being a good host and his defensive self, the satisfied cat forcefully _yanks_ his tie down so he all but _lowers_ himself. His breath hitches.

 

"If you were to decide to trap someone as small as I am, what are their chances of escaping?" He hears Dyo ask, head tipped slightly forward and dark eyes boring into his own; the way one would glare at someone you suspect to have stolen something precious from you. "Let's say a client catches your eye. You've got him right where you want him… will talking still be the only thing you'd do?"

 

 _‘What the hell is_ _with_ _this person?’_ Chanyeol comes this close to genuinely scowling. He utterly loathes being manhandled like this. He really isn't one to back down when he knows he's wronged either, but before he can push back, Dyo frees him. The petrifying glare is suddenly gone as the man walks past as if nothing ever happened.

 

He's supposed to take this in stride. He has had clients who were into being sweetly coaxed out of their prickly shells, but he can't even pinpoint what about this man makes it so easy for him to be ticked. Is it the haughty air? The pristine appearance made up of designer clothes? The vague, underlying look of disinterest he very well knows _is_ there? But Chanyeol isn't a stranger to cracking people who are all those, he doesn't believe there's anyone out there that he can't charm, and yet he can feel the blood underneath his skin starting to simmer.

 

"I can see where your charm lies. Your visual is astounding. You carry yourself well. However, your alias is the only interesting thing about you," Dyo dismisses, nonchalantly taking strides past the sofa and the paintings. "Now I'm rather _much_ more interested in the kind of _clients_ that special hosts like you would bring here."

 

Chanyeol lets the scowl take over now, because _certainly_ this guy isn't here to talk and even has the gall to smile at his bare irritation, lips pulled up into a heart that he just doesn't want to see any longer than he should. Without bothering to mask his own resentment, he asks, "Who are you?"

 

 _‘You're in no fucking position to ask,’_ Kyungsoo doesn't say, realizing— _and really admitting_ —now why he found the glasses on the bridge of his nose in the same place Baekhyun hides the possessions they don't want to look at anymore.

 

He stares at the host in front of him, eyes fixed into a glare. He's seething while he looks at this man's face and tries, with all of his conscious thought, not to snap the card in his hand in half. "You don't know me and I don't know you. Perhaps it's best that we keep it that way."

 

After the door makes a small beep, Chanyeol glances at the clock and realizes it's been the longest sixteen minutes of his life.

 

(Time moves so slowly without Baekhyun.)

 

 

 **5:47pm:** _(1) message received_

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

The first thing he does when he comes back is to return the card, placing it back however he found it in the first place even though he knows Baekhyun probably wouldn't notice. Baekhyun pays attention. Not all the time, though, and seemingly to the most insignificant of things but now... _now_ , he doesn't know the things that Baekhyun actually notices.

 

He doesn't know what it is that Baekhyun even really sees anymore.

 

Their apartment is quiet. Kyungsoo used to like quiet. That is, until he realized, years ago, that when Baekhyun opens his mouth and fills the space between them with his voice, quiet doesn't feel quite like home anymore. It's not as safe and welcomed as Baekhyun's noise is.

 

He finds his luggage still unpacked where he temporarily hid it in their guest room. Baekhyun hasn't realized that he's back yet. Otherwise, his boyfriend would have moved his bags or would have waited to welcome him for the moment he opened their door. Instead, Baekhyun is on their bed, curled like a puppy and sleeping. His boyfriend hasn't even bothered to change into those loose shirts he has always loved.

 

"Must've been a long day for you," Kyungsoo sits at the edge, careful not to let the bed suddenly sink and ruin his boyfriend's sleep.

 

He feels terrible, _so fucking awful,_ but he isn't ready to talk to Baekhyun just yet, so he just reaches out to the latter's slumbering figure and runs his hand gently through soft, silky hair. He stares at the faint knot between those brows… at the lashes against the swell of fair cheeks. He brushes the locks falling over closed eyes before he leans down to kiss Baekhyun's forehead, remembering how affectionate Baekhyun always is to him and how he only ends up reciprocating sometimes, and in a manner that must fall short of being sweet.

 

Kyungsoo just sits there and watches his boyfriend sleep. He probably should've noticed that Baekhyun sleeps so fast and so soundly nowadays. He should've paid more attention to Baekhyun. As he continues to observe the rise and fall of his boyfriend’s chest, to trace the line of a jaw leading up to the seam of pink lips, he feels a clenching in his own chest that he tries not to acknowledge.

 

He tries not to think of some tall man in a well-fitting suit, whose eyes are just as big and bright and always more than ready to pay attention to people like Baekhyun; whose lips curve into a smile so charming that it makes uttering such simple words so much sweeter. The host that called himself Zampano had the best face in that establishment… had big eyes, too, and a pair of full lips. If anyone wanted perfection, Zampano was easily it, and Kyungsoo desperately tries not to think of this.

 

He tries not to think about Baekhyun having stared at that man at one point; about Baekhyun letting that man's hands and lips touch him. He doesn't want to think about how far that man has gone with Baekhyun. He doesn't _want_ to know where another man has kissed, has marked, has _fucked_ what's supposed to be only his; who's supposed to be _just_ his. He doesn't know what he would do if he found anything that belonged to Baekhyun inside that host’s place.

 

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath and slips under the covers, sliding closer to Baekhyun to wrap an arm around the latter.

 

He remains quiet when he leans closer again so their foreheads rest against each other. It’s a bit more difficult to breathe steadily right now while he's dragging a cold hand over the beating sound in his boyfriend's chest. He looks at Baekhyun's face without realizing his own expression has already betrayed him, eyes a little red and hurt.

 

"It's still me in here, right?" He asks softly to Baekhyun's heart, wishing he could peek into his boyfriend's thoughts just to check if it would still be him that he'd see in there; just so he can tell himself this day never happened and that he has no reason to doubt the person he knows he loves.

 

He falls asleep and wishes it's he who Baekhyun sees in his dream.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"Soo? Kyungsoo? Kyung—" He can hear Baekhyun's voice booming from all the way from the kitchen, full of energy and simply beaming.

 

True enough, he glances from their ramyun to the doorway and finds his boyfriend skidding past and tripping towards their living area in excitement, feet tied by slacks. He smiles a little, returning to giving the noodles a gentle stir and adding vegetables, when he hears Baekhyun hit something and later shuffle into the kitchen, rubbing his forearm.

 

"I keep telling you not to run, idiot," Kyungsoo mutters loudly.

 

Of course, Baekhyun readily ignores him to embrace him, like Baekhyun always does, and it makes him feel like there's a puppy rubbing its head onto his leg and wagging its tail.

 

_(Baekhyun always forgave him for not saying the right thing, didn't he?)_

 

"You're back!" He can feel his boyfriend smile even without him looking. "Why didn't you tell me? Where's your luggage? How was Shanghai? Why didn't you tell me?"

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at the sudden albeit expected whining and moves the pot of ramyun to the table. Baekhyun pushes him to sit down and dashes back to the kitchen for the utensils.

 

Watching how eager Baekhyun is to come back to him hurts. A little.

 

(Of course it does. A lot.)

 

"Have you slept yet? Are you tired? You should've woken me up,” Baekhyun asks him, droopy eyes smudged a little with a hint of leftover eyeliner. "I can cook ramyun well enough."

 

"Come here," Kyungsoo tells his boyfriend with a small, half-genuine laugh that still sounds natural because he's an actor, moving his chair and hands already reaching for his boyfriend's hips when the latter comes close enough. "I wanted to surprise you."

 

"Well, I'm surprised," Baekhyun smiles, looking like a hot mess in a wrinkled dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and cowlicks in the mop of soft hair. The man still looks perfect, though… _so_ perfect to him.

 

(Because he really loves Baekhyun.)

 

"What have you been up to?" Kyungsoo asks his puppy as he smoothes out the tangles in the messy bed hair. He drags a thumb over the corners of Baekhyun's eyes, wiping the last of the eyeliner off. "Did your schedule change…? You got off early today."

 

Baekhyun glances away. He wishes he doesn't notice the tiniest fidget in those hands or have any other way to interpret it before they reach out for his own to play. "The studio lets me off the hook every now and then. Jongdae’s schedule covers for mine."

 

It's warm enough because both of their hands are cold.

 

"Did you have plans tonight?"

 

"No," Baekhyun answers promptly, staring at him with something he doesn't know how to interpret. "Why? Do you? Are you leaving so soon? Do you have someone to meet?"

 

 _‘I should be asking you that,’_ Kyungsoo thinks.

 

He admits that there's a heavy pang in his chest; a sudden, curious lump growing in his throat that makes it hard to swallow and so, he lets D.O. fill in for him while he encircles his arms around Baekhyun's waist. He lets D.O. smile for him and pull his boyfriend to his lap to kiss him. He lets D.O. kiss and _love_ Baekhyun because Kyungsoo is too torn between _wanting_ to want to _never_ see Baekhyun again and never letting Baekhyun go because it feels _wrong_.

 

Holding Baekhyun like this feels wrong. Touching Baekhyun when Baekhyun has touched someone else is _wrong_. Baekhyun kissing him back as if it were the most natural thing to happen in the world _suddenly feels wrong_.

 

It should be _I love you_ _too'_ s and _I missed_ _you'_ s, because that's what a boyfriend is supposed to answer with; that's what a boyfriend is supposed to feel when you haven't seen each other in a while. A good boyfriend will make up for lost time. A _good_ boyfriend will do his best to make you feel like he was never really gone when you’re back together again. A good boyfriend will give you _enough_ when he can't always be there to give you everything.

 

But all Kyungsoo can do right now is to stay quiet and to lie and act through D.O. as he moves his lips against Baekhyun's, cupping his boyfriend's face while he accepts the softest of sighs, because the only thoughts running through his mind are countless variations of _‘Why would you fool around with someone else?’_ and _‘How long have you been sleeping with him?’_ that are all too loud and too painful to bear right now. All there is in his mind at this very moment are thoughts asking what kind of boyfriend _he_ is and how _foolishly blind_ he had been, that Baekhyun had to seek some other man's arms while he was gone.

 

Coming home suddenly hurts. Coming home to Baekhyun hurts _so much_.

 

"You still haven't answered me," Baekhyun reminds, smiling in the same way that used to give him butterflies in his stomach… it _used_ to get him through the day.

 

Now, Kyungsoo just wants to _scream_.

 

Now, he just _wants_ the prickling behind the lids of his eyes to stop.

 

"Doesn't matter. All your plans are with me this week," He says instead and presses their lips together again so Baekhyun closes his eyes and thinks that the fingers digging into his hips is just his own want instead of self-blame already filling him up to the brim, threatening to spill.

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t— _and utterly refuses to_ —let himself cry over this.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

 **hyunie ( 9:14pm): **Yes. I'm doing fine. Why? Are you okay?

 **hyunie** ** **(** **9:18pm** ): **Yeol?

 ** **chanyeol** **(** **9:19pm** ): **I just thought to ask.

 **hyunie** ** **(** **9:33pm** ):** Alright. I'll see you soon.

 ** **chanyeol** : ** _typing..._

 **chanyeol** **:** _(draft)_ How soon is soon?

 

**[ Your message has not been sent yet.]**

 

**[ Delete draft? ]**

 

**[ Draft deleted. ]**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Kyungsoo is very much a victim (if you want to call him that) as well, since he is the one being cheated on.  
> 2\. Kyungsoo is the only one that knows about Chanyeol being Baekhyun's other man. Or rather, _Zampano_.  
>  3\. Chanyeol only knows Baekhyun has a boyfriend, and not who it is.  
> 4\. Baekhyun has no idea Chanyeol and Kyungsoo have already met.


	4. Gnossienne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's in love, Chanyeol knows he deeply and foolishly is, and admitting it doesn't make the reality of being in love with a man who's already in a committed relationship so much easier for someone like him.
> 
> (The universe never lets him forget his place.)

 

He's greeted by gentle features, cute eyes, and dainty hands that already know to lace around his shoulders when Baekhyun comes to see him again. It's a month after their last secret rendezvous... not just two weeks like he expected, but that fact is long forgotten once they find themselves in a warm embrace even before the lock can set in.

 

"Hey," Chanyeol mutters quietly, arms strong and tight around the smaller frame as he relishes the familiarity of cologne, which is reminiscent of a cool breeze on an aptly hot summer day, and the sensation of faint tickling on his neck because Baekhyun's hair is brushing against it.

 

_Do I even have to tell you how much I've missed you this time?_

 

They stay like that for a few more moments, put together into a version of eternity that feels all too short and is already gone before it even truly disappears. He automatically lowers his head to meet Baekhyun, who tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips. It's just a peck, it's _really_ too short and so innocent, unlike those that have come before it, but it still makes his heart beat fast.

 

Every time he holds this man in his arms, his heart forgets the aching that previously weighed it down.

 

"Hello to you too, puppy," Baekhyun smiles, eyes curved into crescents, and all Chanyeol can suddenly think about is how much he has missed seeing that smile and missed hearing that voice even more.

 

He is too big to be called a puppy, especially by someone who is much smaller than he is. Nonetheless, he lets himself get used to it because it's his favourite’s nickname for _him_. It’s a name only _Baekhyun_ calls him.

 

He loosens his grasp around the man’s waist and leads the latter inside with their hands intertwined, keeping their fingers together for as long as Baekhyun doesn't mind or think to pull away from him just yet. He doesn't ask where Baekhyun has been all this time.

 

He doesn't ask what Baekhyun busied himself with these past weeks, who Baekhyun has been with, or if Baekhyun has been beside the man he has been wanting to be all this time. He's going to ask them later when he has prepared himself a little better to get hurt. He'll save the heartache for later when the night is almost over. For now, Chanyeol is just happy that Baekhyun returned to him.

 

"Have you eaten? What do you want to do tonight?"

 

"Yeol, just sit down. You're all over the place."

 

 _‘I can't help it,’_ Chanyeol readily obeys anyway, sinking down on the couch and letting the older man lie on his lap after having slipped into one of the oversized shirts he keeps around as spare, "Long day?”

 

“Mmhm. Tough week. My throat hurts."

 

Indeed, Baekhyun’s voice _does_ sound a little croaky.

 

"Want me to make some soup for you?"

 

Baekhyun shakes his head, toying with his host’s fingers, "No, just stay here," the man sighs appreciatively as the fingers travel up to his hair, stroking it, before he notices the expression drawn over Chanyeol’s face and reassures, "I'm fine. I just need a little rest."

 

Chanyeol isn’t so convinced, even though his favourite smiles at him. "I can carry you to the bedroom. It'd be more comfortable for you there."

 

Baekhyun seems to consider it for a moment, before sliding off his warm lap and easing him onto the wide couch. It’s a little confusing, but he lets the man arrange him on his own couch anyway. He finds himself with a fluffed pillow under his head and Baekhyun laying on top of him afterwards, like a cat content with its newfound cardboard box.

 

"You're more comfortable," his favourite says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

 

They’ve done this before, Baekhyun using him as a bed. Every time, the man would tell him he’s comfortable, too. Each time doesn’t really make more sense than the last time to Chanyeol, who's well aware of how he's a bunch of long and awkward limbs all joined into one giant body of a hard chest and firm—and not really comfortable—muscles.

 

"I can _feel_ you thinking, Yeol," Baekhyun muses, already curled against his chest and bare toes playing with one of his giant feet. "Stop thinking."

 

"I'm stopping, stopping," Chanyeol concedes as he tips his head back and stares at the ceiling, wondering how they must look like to it if it had eyes and could talk.

 

Put him out of Zampano's golden host costume and he might as well just be Pinocchio under all the bravado. Stiff. Made of wood. A liar, even to himself, but having Baekhyun on him like this, with eyes closed and peacefully starting to drift off to sleep because _Baekhyun_ trusts him— _a liar_ —has him believing that Zampano never existed; that he's simply a man who has been so used to being hard on himself that he finds himself fearing he would crush hearts if he started to use his rough hands again instead of his words.

 

He isn't a liar anymore. He isn't right now and hasn't been for months since meeting Baekhyun. He hadn't stepped in here before Baekhyun. He had no reason to be anywhere in the fifth floor when he had no favourite.

 

Now he's almost never home back in his real apartment just in case Baekhyun decides to visit him; just in case Baekhyun decides it's okay for him to tell a man in a relationship that he misses him; just in case Baekhyun would rather have him than wait all night for a phone call from someone who's probably too busy to even make it.

 

Would his ceiling agree to that if it could talk? That he isn't the man he used to be anymore? Would it say he changed for the better? Or would it also tell him he's a fool, just like the bed upstairs, for thinking this much about a man who doesn't even know his last name?

 

Chanyeol doesn't realize he has fallen asleep too, with an arm thrown over his eyes and the other thrown protectively around Baekhyun's lower back, until there's a song breaking into waves and he stirs.

 

 _‘What...?’_ He glances around, careful not to wake the favourite in his arms while trying to find the source.

 

It's Baekhyun's phone, however, and whoever is calling must be important because Baekhyun almost falls off him and trips in the man’s haste to answer it. He watches Baekhyun dash towards the kitchen, still in his loose shirt. Although he's worried, he doesn't—can’t bring himself to—follow.

 

There's a small drop of anxiety creating ripples through him, disturbing the peace that sleep otherwise could have sustained if they had remained in the couch and if Baekhyun had climbed back on top of him again instead of almost running past him after emerging from the kitchen. His heart takes a deep plunge when he watches the older man pull his shirt and start to slip back into his own clothes.

 

He stands immediately.

 

"You're _leaving_?" Chanyeol questions, trailing after the shorter man like a restless and possessive tail.

 

"Yes, I have to go now."

 

"But you just got here."

 

"I know, I'm sorry puppy," Baekhyun flashes him an apologetic smile, black dress shirt back on his shoulders and red necktie loose around his collar. "I'll make it up to you okay?"

 

_How will you when we can't even meet like normal people do?_

 

The singer presses a quick kiss on his grim face and goes back to smoothing himself out, walking towards the doorway.

 

Before he actually could, Chanyeol grabs his arm.

 

"Yeol...?" The shorter man's eyes are wide, confused, and they widen even more as he's yanked back and thrown on the sofa. "Chanyeol, what—"

 

"Just stay."

 

" _I can't_ , Yeol," Baekhyun tries to say—to explain—because he can't leave if Chanyeol doesn't get off him, but he finds himself just squirming beneath, too rattled and confused to fully comprehend what's happening. He pushes against the broad shoulders, pressed close against him, and releases a gasp when his legs are spread for him.

 

"Chanyeol, I can't," He whimpers. "Not now."

 

He bites back a moan when a wet mouth latches onto his neck, right over one of his most sensitive areas, and he's now pushed to lie on his side and accommodate another man between his legs. His phone's been thrown, somewhere, and he sees it on the carpeted floor along with his blazer. He glances down at his lover and sees a face riddled with an expression that doesn't belong there, before Chanyeol shuts his own eyes close and just—stands, quickly pulling away from him as if burned.

 

The next moment, his host comes back and hands over the rest of his clothes. He still feels where Chanyeol's touched, both burning and freezing.

 

"I'm sorry," Chanyeol dejectedly says, hand in his own messy hair and head hung low, unable to look ahead. "You can go. You should go."

 

Baekhyun is quiet for what feels like an hour but is actually a mere moment, before he stands and finishes what he set out to do in the first place.

 

From the corner of his eye, Chanyeol ignores the slight tremble in his favourite's movements as the man changes back into his own suit, knowing himself to be the cause. He stays rooted to where he's seated. No matter how much he wants to crawl on his knees or embrace Baekhyun so Baekhyun wouldn’t leave, he tells himself he shouldn’t.

 

He forces himself not to move an inch, not even to raise his head and look at Baekhyun’s direction. He deserves this terrible feeling, whatever it’s called. Right now, he feels deserving to be left behind.

 

"Chan—"

 

" _Just go, Baek_ ," Chanyeol cuts in.

 

It startles them both. His voice is suddenly so loud and terrifying, even to his own ears. He doesn't look up to see Baekhyun flinch. He sighs heavily and hides his face in his hands… _just_ so he doesn't have to watch Baekhyun leave.

 

It hasn't even been an hour that he has had Baekhyun back, hasn't even been _half_ an hour that he has had Baekhyun to sleep in his arms, and now Baekhyun is already leaving. Baekhyun is _already_ leaving again. He doesn’t even know how long he’s going to wait this time. For how long is he going to wait after Baekhyun steps out of that door? Will Baekhyun come back soon? Tomorrow? Next week? Next month?

 

Chanyeol just keeps still despite wanting answers. He wants reassurance. He wants Baekhyun to tell him he will be back as long as he’s willing to wait, but he knows that he can’t have what he wants even when he hears shifting and he sees a shadow spilling over the space between his feet; even if Baekhyun, by _some_ grace of _some_ god, _is_ actually hesitant to leave.

 

"Thank you for stopping," He hears Baekhyun murmur and, in that moment, if he only looked up, he would’ve seen how close they really are and how the person he loves is torn between wanting to comfort him and withdrawing to give him his space.

 

He feels the softest kiss that the older places on the top of his head, "I'll see you next time, okay?"

 

It's the only time that Chanyeol almost says _‘I love you,’_ and knows to himself, _knows very well,_ that he doesn't deserve to.

 

The door makes a beep before the lock sets in.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"I haven't seen you out here before," Suho comments when his senior finds him in the private park-slash-secret rooftop garden, the lone figure of man right under the foliage of the wishing tree and the dancing of little lights. They’re pretty, almost like fireflies.

 

"Because I've never been here before," He responds, somewhat simply tired of the secrets that he once had been so fascinated by.

 

When it comes to secrets, there is always a curious sense of pride that comes from knowing them. Chanyeol knows many, whether it’s Dream’s secrets or his clients’, he knows every single secret there is in this establishment. He likes secrets because he likes the idea of knowing things that not everyone else does, although it gets exhausting to carry all the weight of pretence, sometimes. It gets exhausting to keep secrets.

 

If a secret is all you can be, though, wouldn't you bear to be a secret than to be nothing at all?

 

He hadn't been able to lie at all today. How could he lie about wanting someone when he already lies about it to the person he wants? All he thought, before Baekhyun came earlier, was how he could show his favourite the view from here sometime.

 

It'd be the closest thing he would get to an actual date if Baekhyun were to say yes. It's not going to happen now, he supposes. Or anytime soon. Or at all. If Baekhyun even talks to him again at all.

 

"You look like shit."

 

"What an astute observation," Chanyeol mutters, just staring at the empty sky. He can't see the stars because of the city lights. "I didn't know you curse."

 

"Only when no one else can hear. Did you know I lie every day?"

 

"Everyone lies here every day."

 

"But did you know you're the best at it? Just two years in and you already had your name engraved in one of Dream's rooms," His senior replies, leaning forward with arms crossed on the railing. Chanyeol doesn't have to crane his neck just to check if Dream's favourite host is looking at him like a parent looks at a petulant child. "I suppose not even the best liar can fake devotion for this long."

 

Chanyeol doesn't reply to that.

 

He hasn't thought of what this whole thing looks like to his co-workers. He just assumed they didn't know. Maybe they actually don't. Know, that is. Only Suho ever bothers to check up on everyone.

 

He wouldn’t be so surprised if the other bachelors have noticed how differently he treats Baekhyun or how the elusive Zampano has suddenly started to frequent his room when he didn't want to have anything to do with it before. He’ll most likely contend that it’s only natural for Zampano to become so immersed in his craft when he’s with clients as lovely and special as Baekhyun. If Dream knew better, she would capitalize on bachelors’ interactions and have them vie for a client’s attention.

 

Love triangles are always interesting, after all. Not when you’re a part of one, however, and unsure whether it actually is a triangle. Chanyeol can’t call his relationship with Baekhyun a love triangle or an actual relationship, not when Baekhyun has always been someone else’s.

 

"Do you know when you stopped lying?" Suho asks, wisps of vapour breaking in waves around him. "Was it the first meeting?"

 

Chanyeol shrugs, not quite in the mood to reminisce or to hold a self-pity party.

 

"Who knows," He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head. "Maybe I'm lying right now."

 

_Maybe it was even before I told him my name._

 

"You're not. I've been in this business for so long, you know? I know the look that a simple host gives to a client and the look that a man gives to someone he wants to be more with," Suho says, voice levelled. Except that this way, he sounds more like a parent testing the waters, gauging how prepared their son is for a talk.

 

Chanyeol exhales, "With all due respect, hyung, if you have something to say, just say it."

 

He hears a chuckle before his senior replies, "I don't believe you've ever looked at him as just a host."

 

Chanyeol remains silent for the second time, now staring through the small gaps of sky littered all over the dark leaves overhead.

 

He feels more vulnerable now than he does when it's just him in his room or when he's the only one awake at two in the morning, holding the person who makes the heart in his chest beat so fast and yet keep it so calm close to him. Maybe because out here, the world can see him. Other people can see how fragile he is, without remembering how he used to be otherwise, and no matter how much he tries not to be now.

 

Everyone can see him, except for the only person he wants to be seen by.

 

"How do you do it?" Chanyeol asks quietly. Without looking down at the city's lights and the cars speeding through the busy streets below, he can already picture the tiny image of people taking strolls, of couples walking hand in hand without a care in the world. "How have you managed to last for so long like this?"

 

 _Lying about love to everyone else? Being_ just _the other guy to that person?_

 

"I... suppose I cried. To mope and to cry was all I could do before, when I started out," Suho answers, now just observing the nightscape. "Now I only cry when I need to. For all else, I simply move on. I lie every day, but I lie by pretending to be the person my younger self would've wanted to hear the words I say now from."

 

"But I can't. I can't lie about something like this," Chanyeol— _Chanyeol_ , not _Zampano_ —admits. _‘I don't want to lie about wanting Baekhyun.’_

 

"You're beating yourself too much this early, Zampano."

 

_But is it? Is it too early? Am I?_

 

Chanyeol sits upright, face in his hand again upon remembering the surprise on Baekhyun's face when he pushed him down. He pushed Baekhyun down and he knew that, even if it was only for the slightest moment, Baekhyun had been scared of him. He had scared his favourite and he had scared himself afterwards with the thought of the possibilities, with the other ways that _that_ particular moment could've gone down if he had not stopped.

 

He wanted Baekhyun. But not that way. Not like that.

 

He doesn't _ever_ want to be that kind of man.

 

"I didn't see you with him when he left," his senior speaks again, exhaling the last of the artificial smoke before walking towards the lift. "I don't know what happened between you, but it doesn't seem like you're the only one going to be troubled by it. Might want to give him a call."

 

"We agreed not to call," Chanyeol replies.

 

It’s only half the truth. He and Baekhyun never talked about it. The only boundary they have is him promising to himself that he wouldn't try to be a bigger part of Baekhyun's life by contacting the man outside of his room.

 

Suho pauses, appearance still impeccable. If not for Dream's custom-tailored suit, he'd easily be mistaken for an angel in the dark, walking around with an undeniable air of dignity and blonde hair like a crown of the gentlest light.

 

"Sometimes, it's best to break agreements," his senior says.

 

Chanyeol almost answers that he can't, because Baekhyun is actually _already_ in a relationship with someone who isn’t him, and even though he isn't quite sure where he stands, he's _more_ than sure it isn't anywhere near where he wants or what anyone morally sound and upright would deem appropriate. He's Baekhyun's host, but at the same time, he's _much more_ and _even less_ than that.

 

His senior pats his shoulder. It’s a gesture that is supposed to be comforting, he supposes, "If it makes you feel better, Baekhyun isn't a liar."

 

And... he's right. Baekhyun isn't.

 

Baekhyun blushes easily. He nibbles on his fingertips when he's nervous. He makes a strange face when someone calls him _hyung_. His favourite likes being yanked if he gets to be snuggled right after. He talks a lot, he giggles a lot, and although he acts as if nothing ever bothers him, Chanyeol knows it's because Baekhyun just can't possibly afford to give himself an opportunity to remember how vulnerable and unhappy he truly is while awake.

 

The Baekhyun who holds his hand while awake is different from the Baekhyun who clings to him while asleep, mumbling about urgent flights and apologies over broken phones. Baekhyun isn't a liar because he already knows how painful it is to be made promises to. He doesn't want to lie the way Chanyeol is used to.

 

"I'll give him a call tomorrow," Chanyeol gives in, hoping that Baekhyun is and isn't alone when his favourite sleeps tonight in his own bed, before he's finally left alone again.

 

He goes back to his room early, but he doesn't get to sleep at all.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Baekhyun is a singer. He gets up just before noon and has the habit of rushing to his vocal coaching lessons during the day. His client is more coach than singer, but he can't help but think his favourite as one of those pre-school students who bounce into classrooms with bags bigger than they are.

 

Chanyeol knows this because Baekhyun would text him when the man believes he’s running late and that he isn't going to make it. Baekhyun used to text him even when it wasn't about his adorable pupils. He disliked it whenever he received messages about someone having given his favourite a picked flower or cheap snacks, he disliked it even more when Baekhyun would tell him about places to travel to and new movies to watch.

 

It just felt like adding insult to injury, having a list of places to visit and being reminded that it's not Baekhyun he can take with him. Sometimes, the things Baekhyun texts him help with smooth talking his other clients. Most of the time, however, all it does is make him envious of the people who get to see Baekhyun every day even though he knows almost nothing substantial about them.

 

Chanyeol reminds himself that being envious—no, _jealous_ —is silly and terribly stupid. There can never be real competition when Baekhyun already has him. His face is simply one of the best there is.

 

Besides, Baekhyun already has a boyfriend, both during the day and the night. Can one even call him a boyfriend? Is he... is he Baekhyun's boyfriend at night?

 

Chanyeol finally switches his flat screen off after having fallen asleep countless of times without being able to stay asleep. He glances at the digital clock on his wall, reads ten flashing in red, before he thumbs the phone beside him and stares at the call option.

 

Maybe it's not a good idea, but he wants to see him. He wants to see Baekhyun. Even if it's just Baekhyun’s voice—

 

But there's a reason why he can't and why he hasn't.

 

He notices the notification light, though, only just now. He grasps the phone and unlocks it to find Baekhyun's text sitting at the very top. One unread message sent at midnight amidst the rest of the messages he cannot bring himself to delete.

 

 **hyunie** **(** **12:04am** **):** _I'm sorry for just leaving._

 

"Why are you sorry?" Chanyeol buries his face in his comforter and twists it beneath his clenched fists, feeling guilty for an entirely different reason now and a little angrier at himself. He grumbles pathetically, "Why the hell were you still awake when you have to be up early?"

 

_"We can't see each other for a while," Baekhyun says, tucked in his arms, and with back cuddled against his chest and eyes looking up at him._

 

He really was happy to see Baekhyun yesterday. He was happy to be remembered. When Baekhyun had to go, all he really wanted to do was to cling to him. He wanted to go with Baekhyun wherever it was the man was going to but he _couldn't_ , and suddenly he felt like he really _was_ the puppy Baekhyun says he is. A small puppy who is always aching and yearning while waiting for his owner to come back for him and forgets he ever hurt once he has a body to keep warm with.

 

If Baekhyun had a puppy, would he be jealous of the little guy too? Would Baekhyun ever consider to call it Chanyeol? Would Baekhyun take him home if he were a real puppy?

 

"Get a grip, Chanyeol," He groans to himself, but it's weak and tired and lacking any bite it otherwise would've had if this had been months ago, when he was still just a host who worried about his client's safety; when Baekhyun was still _just_ another face among the many he sees every other night—to be forgotten once he walked out of Dream.

 

Chanyeol distracts himself by preparing himself for work.

 

An hour later and he finds himself looking at a full-length mirror, staring at dark locks stylishly swept up and shoulders framed by another tailored suit. He sees the man that Baekhyun once called a dream as he pulls on his cuffs, fixes his diamond phoenix cufflinks, and straightens himself. He tries not to think or laugh bitterly at how Baekhyun doesn't even know the dream has its own dream or that he's actually a huge part of it.

 

_"Are you going somewhere?" He asks, pretending to be distracted by the movie while resting his chin on his favourite’s shoulder._

 

He clasps the watch Baekhyun had given around his wrist, feeling its coldness against his skin, and vaguely wonders if a ring would feel the same before he walks back to his bed to finally make that call. It's eleven when he glances down at the heavy watch and feels a churning in his gut, leaning on his side against the heavily plated door beneath the deceit of polished wood with an arm crossed over his chest.

 

 _Drop the call_ , his mind nags before the first ring. He convinces himself it's the only thing he can do to reach Baekhyun.

 

 _Just wait until he visits you again,_ it continues to discourage. He knows it's just him being scared, deep down. Because even though he... _tops_ in this physical relationship, he's far from being in control.

 

The call connects after the second ring, and he hears what's probably sheets moving and a muffled groan. Baekhyun often sleeps in. Maybe Baekhyun slept in…?

 

"Baekhyun...? Baek... it's me," The other end of the line is silent even after he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I yelled at you last night. I'm sorry for what I did. I shouldn't have done it."

 

Neither of them likes mornings but he would hate to have to spend another night the way he spent last night. He would hate himself for worrying Baekhyun, even just for a little bit. More than that, he won't forgive himself if he doesn't make this first step and apologize. Baekhyun didn't deserve that... whatever that was; no matter how unfair he felt.

 

"I'm not going to make excuses because I was... I was a _dick_ last night," he says, staring at the same ceiling he was staring at before he fell asleep with a lover in his arms. "I shouldn't have tried to stop you. If anyone has to be sorry, it's me."

 

Chanyeol doesn't say _, ‘I wish you_ _stayed,_ _because I really do miss you.’_

 

Because that’s a line he absolutely _cannot_ cross.

 

So… that's it.

 

That's where it's supposed to end, but he can't bring himself to hang up just yet because Baekhyun hasn't spoken yet. Baekhyun hasn't told him he's angry, that what he had done was uncalled for, or simply sighed disappointingly at him, like he expects the man to.

 

"Talk to me, Baek."

 

Because being given _nothing_ hurts so much when he already has _so little._

 

"Just... _say_ something," Chanyeol sighs, closing his eyes.

 

Instead of Baekhyun, however, he hears a door creak. He winces. It's so loud and sudden through the small amount of static.

 

 _'Soo, have you seen my phone?_ ' He hears Baekhyun's distant voice ask...

 

And a deeper, unfamiliar one answer with _‘Yes, it's here.’_

 

Right in his ear.

 

_‘Oh, you found i—’_

 

Then the call abruptly ends, and Chanyeol feels like something leaped up into his throat and got stuck. A chill shoots up his spine while the phone slips through his grasp. It lands on the floor with a heavy _thud_.

 

Baekhyun's smile on his screen almost breaks.

 

_He pretends it doesn't suddenly hurt him to watch Zampano smile while he gives up everything for Yenicall on the big screen, just as he hears Baekhyun quietly answer with, "My boyfriend is home."_

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

He remembers meeting Suho’s observant gaze halfway into the night. He almost forgot about how he had disregarded the way Suho’s expression morphed into one of _those_ looks again, the kind of look that he could expect to see on the face of the parents he didn’t grow up with. Instead, he leaned closer to the woman draped over his arm.

 

He let her rest her head on his shoulder. He whispered sweetness in her ears. If he had inched a little closer, whatever they were doing would’ve crossed a line. Maybe they already had.

 

She giggled, with that sultry voice that just sounded so enticing to his ears at the time. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks were rosy, and her fingers were long and slender on his forearm. He would have kissed her. Maybe he really would have.

 

But then, he remembered Baekhyun.

 

 _‘You’re not Baekhyun’_ —suddenly, she reminded him of Baekhyun and he realized that he was already leaning so close—' _Where is Baekhyun?’_

 

_Baekhyun…? Baek, where are—_

 

“Take a break,” Suho told him somewhere between the moment his appointment ended and another was supposed to begin. He was sure he had his head thrown back into the couch—the couch felt _very_ nice that night—until someone touched his forehead and he was suddenly forced to stand on his feet. “I said go get some rest, Zampano.”

 

He remembers Suho kicking him out, somewhat, and tripping back inside his apartment later. Everything else is a blur. The stop lights, neon signs, the burning on his tongue—not even the strongest drink in the bar overpowered his desire to see Baekhyun.

 

Chanyeol already knows, anyway. He already _knows_ Baekhyun isn't his and he can't be Baekhyun's, whether or not he admits to himself that he thought otherwise whenever it was just the two of them before and no matter how easy it is to forget _now_. At the end of the day, he has no choice but to remember that they, in fact, do not belong to each other.

 

He has _always_ known this. But sometimes, he thinks himself as less of a fool because he could feel like Baekhyun understood him; that Baekhyun thought the same.

 

He felt like Baekhyun knew, that Baekhyun accepted him, all those times that Baekhyun would let himself be held by him while they watched a movie inside his room because they couldn't step outside together. Baekhyun couldn’t have missed the way he stared. He _always_ stared and he _always_ hoped that Baekhyun would stay in his arms, even if it sometimes meant that he had to be teased about his ears the entire day.

 

(Acting like everything is okay is such a small price to pay compared to entirely losing Baekhyun.)

 

Chanyeol really… _really_ wants to believe that Baekhyun felt something for him during those rare times that the man would wake up in the middle of the night to look for him; when Baekhyun would just stare at him after realizing he never really leaves in the first place; when Baekhyun would trace the bridge of his nose with a gentle finger before his favourite would mouth something against his throat.

 

 _Fuck him. Fuck the heart in his chest,_ because he remembers getting a kiss from Baekhyun every time.

 

It was always— _always_ —slow and tentative. It was always the kind of kiss that you have to consciously be careful not to rush. It was desperate… it was fearful. It reminded him of everything he was, _so much_ that he didn’t want to ask or think about anything else that simply wasn’t kissing back or weren’t Baekhyun’s lips on his.

 

It felt like each time was meant to be the last, and he did—does—not _ever_ want to think about anything being the last with Baekhyun. He does not want to think of how every time, it felt like Baekhyun saying _‘I'm sorry’_ and _‘I love you_ ’ at the same time. He does not want an _‘I love you,’_  not _even_ if it comes from Baekhyun, if it comes before an apology.

 

As he rolls in his bed, Chanyeol begrudgingly ponders about the heart in his own chest. He feels empty, much emptier than he has ever been in his life, and restless despite his heart's steady beating.

 

He knows he can live without Baekhyun. He truly knows this. He has lived without Baekhyun before, and he can do and lie about it until it becomes just another truth.

 

It will be, eventually, anyway. That’s just how life is.

 

 _‘Fucking stop beating,’_ he slurs at the organ in his chest—voice powerful and deep, but essentially broken—as he smells the bitterness in his own breath and hears his stubborn heart in his ears. _‘Stop… just... please stop hurting.’_

 

He doesn't want to lie anymore. He doesn’t want a life without Baekhyun in it.

 

_(I don’t want that kind of life.)_

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

It's almost past midnight when his ringtone pierces the air, breaking the silence with a ballad and intensifying the makings of an upcoming hangover's tremor in his head.

 

It's Baekhyun’s ringtone.

 

Whether his vision slightly swims or it's quite disorienting to suddenly wake and move, he forces himself to stir. With closed eyes, he rolls over to lie on his back, running a hand through his dark hair and groaning with his phone now pressed to his ear.

 

It's just silence from the other end. Silence and the tiniest amount of static.

 

"Baekhyun...?" He asks sleepily, brows knit together.

 

Then he hears breathing… and a choked gasp that he knows all too well. It goes straight to his own groin, and so does the image of Baekhyun's flushed face being shoved down onto pillows, with his favourite's mouth open and lips moist and very red.

 

_'Fuck—I can’t anym—'_

 

Chanyeol freezes.

 

He forces himself to open his eyes as he shifts uncomfortably in his bed and readily disregards the throbbing inside his head.

 

The silence is quickly replaced by wanton moaning, the very same noise Baekhyun makes under him, and he fumbles in vain when he drops his phone. It switches itself into loud speaker and sends his heart marching fast and heavy once Baekhyun's obscene muffled begging shatters the silence of his apartment. Once he realizes what's happening, he breaks out in ice cold sweat.

 

 _This_ —this is _not_ happening, is it...?

 

He is not listening to Baekhyun have sex.

 

He’s—

 

 _‘No... no,_ just _—fuck no,’_ Chanyeol stares at the phone that just keeps _fucking_ slipping through his trembling hands. He forces air into his lungs with a deep and shaky breath but even _that_ is difficult to manage when his chest is just—suddenly hurting _so fucking much._

 

He is not listening to Baekhyun being fucked by someone else.

 

He is _not_ fucking listening to Baekhyun and his boyfriend.

 

But god… _god_ , he cannot possibly mistake Baekhyun’s voice for anyone else’s.

 

> **_'I missed you so much, Baekhyun. You missed this, didn't you?_ **

 

Every part of him feels numb, but not his heart. His heart is slamming and twisting and it feels like it’s being torn apart. He wants to vomit; he can't _breathe_ —it hurts so, _so much_ —

 

> **_‘You missed_ me _, didn't you?'_**

 

Chanyeol cuts the call before he can hear anything else.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

He stumbles on his way to his bathroom, crumples on the cold floor the moment he gets the door open and just—stays there until his eyes get too tired and he has no choice but to close them. He doesn’t care whether he just sits there for an entire night or sleep ends up pitying him enough to come for him. His eyes sting and he knows they are still red when he wakes up to Baekhyun's face.

 

His favourite's beautiful face is filled with worry. He tries to flash a smile because Baekhyun is _there with him_ and he doesn't want Baekhyun to worry. He doesn't want Baekhyun to know that _he_ knows Baekhyun is unhappy; that the _boyfriend_ already knows Baekhyun is seeing him; that it actually _hurts_ him to stay like this.

 

It actually hurts him so much to be more than and be less than _just_ a secret but even so, even when he waits for someone who isn't guaranteed to return because they're already someone else's, he _still_ doesn't want Baekhyun to worry. He’ll keep waiting even if the rest of their _next time'_ s mean he crawls painfully humiliating like this because he does not want Baekhyun to leave. He most definitely does not want Baekhyun to leave him for good.

 

He has been honest with Baekhyun. Although he hasn't told— _cannot tell_ —Baekhyun everything he’s been wanting to, he has done everything he can to let the man feel that he isn't just doing it because it’s his job. He can do everything, but he can’t say things like he’s not in this for the money or the sex. He can't say the one thing that would differentiate Baekhyun from the rest of his clients if only he could say it out loud.

 

So instead of saying anything, the pup who cannot get used to being left behind leans forward against the man he wishes were his. He hesitates to tangle his arms around his favourite’s waist until Baekhyun assures him it's fine—embracing Baekhyun like this is fine—that he's more important than a wrinkled shirt. He embraces his favourite tightly, the only favourite he'll ever have, and passes off his own trembling as merely the manifestation of his overdue exhaustion.

 

 _‘It happens sometimes,’_ he lies for the first time in a long while, and just falls on his owner's chest with eyes shut close and hands so very cold _. ‘It’ll pass, so just stay here.’_

 

Baekhyun embraces him… loosely at first, then protectively. And, all the while, he desperately wishes Baekhyun really isn’t a liar and really can't differentiate the fresh hot tears from outside's droplets of cool rain instead of just pretending.

 

 _‘I love you,’_ he wants to say; to shout, but bites the words so they cannot come out. Instead, he pulls Baekhyun closer to him, hugging the latter as if they would never see each other again.

 

_I love you._

 

_I love you._

 

_I love you._

 

Until the moment Chanyeol falls asleep, all he thinks about is wanting to see Baekhyun, although not quite like this, when he opens his eyes again.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

He gets a terrible hangover for the next twenty-four hours.

 

The fever rendering him both numb and on fire towards reality remains for the following seventy-two hours after it.

 

It feels like all those times watching Baekhyun leave. All the pain and helplessness compressed into three days and condensed into making the heaviest of chains—like a _leash_ —while staying rooted there by the door. Hope, after all, is most terrible when it insists that waiting will be worth it once it finally ends.

 

Maybe it is. Worth it.

 

Maybe it isn't.

 

"You idiot, what the hell were you thinking? They gave you a break to rest, not to get piss-ass drunk."

 

_What was I supposed to do?_

 

"You should've told someone. You could've told _me_. You _fucking_ live alone, Chanyeol."

 

_I couldn't. No way._

 

_(I was so scared you wouldn’t come back.)_

 

"What if Suho never informed me...? What if something _happened_ to you, huh?" He isn't sure if it really happened or if it was simply the figment of his delirious mind, but he felt something press on his forehead, something cool to touch and very soft, before he heard Baekhyun—or his imagination fooling him with Baekhyun's voice—tell him, "I missed you, puppy. It's impossible not to miss you."

 

_I missed you too. I missed you so much._

 

Baekhyun was there in the three, four days he slipped in and out of consciousness. He wants to believe it really was Baekhyun, and that Baekhyun really held his hand—very tightly—and stayed, even if only to scold him, "Don't you ever do this to yourself again."

 

_I'm sorry._

 

_(Don’t leave.)_

 

When he wakes— _really wakes_ —there's no one else there.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

But it _was_ real.

 

"You're not supposed to be moving so much yet," Baekhyun’s voice is slightly raised and... angry, when the man catches him exiting his apartment’s bedroom.

 

Chanyeol glances from the suit in his hands to his client, whose expression is stern while blocking the doorway. Baekhyun looks quite daunting even in a sweater a size bigger than it should be. It rather makes his favourite more handsome than lovely, but that's beside the point right now.

 

"But I have work," He answers, ignoring the curious feeling sprouting in his chest at having Baekhyun in his home.

 

Baekhyun really _is_ here… and frowning at him, "No, you don't."

 

"I do, Baek," Chanyeol halts, towel hanging loosely around his hips and another one over his head from being fresh from the shower, and he looks down at his favourite as he tries his best attempt to maneuver around the blockade.

 

It's truthfully a huge relief for him to know he hasn't lost his mind yet, but he hasn’t reported in for work for, what, two days now? Maybe?

 

"Baekhyun, I _do_ have work,” He insists. “You know... just not with you?"

 

Baekhyun utterly refuses to budge, though. The man even narrows eyes at him and extends arms out in challenge, blocking more of the doorway, but the sweater paws do little to support his favourite’s noble cause, "You can't go. I'm not letting you go."

 

Chanyeol doesn’t deny that his heart skips a beat at that.

 

"Baekhyun, I _need_ to go. I'm just going to talk all day anyway, you know how it goes," He appeals again, pretending to sigh in annoyance because Baekhyun is being very stubborn. With hands on his shoulders, his favourite pushes him back into his own bedroom. "Baek, I won't get paid if I—"

 

The problem with Chanyeol, though, is that he _lets_ Baekhyun be stubborn around him. He lets Baekhyun push him around, _always_ , and when the back of his knees hit the edge of his bed and they both fall backwards into it, he even lets Baekhyun trap him with all of the familiar weight. The problem, _the bigger one_ , is that all he really wants is for Baekhyun to leave him no other choice.

 

"I bought your time. Your only client is _me_ ," His favourite tells him, expression filled with concern again, and he already feels the resistance slipping out of him upon seeing it. "You were out for _days_ , Chanyeol. You _have_ to rest some more, okay? Please."

 

There is simply no room to argue when the person you love talks to you like that, as if you meant so much to them as much as they have always meant so much to you, so... Chanyeol nods. There really is no other choice when it’s Baekhyun that’s making him choose because he just... really wants to be with Baekhyun too. Of course he chooses to be with Baekhyun.

 

He _always_ wants to be with Baekhyun.

 

This makes Baekhyun sigh, in relief perhaps, and pluck the towel stuck under him to dry his hair. His favourite is nibbling on his own lip again, thinking about something while staring at the strip of wool over his head. He doesn't want those lips to bleed or let the man continue to think about something else when Baekhyun should only be thinking about him.

 

He knows he has no right over who Baekhyun thinks about, he has no right over Baekhyun, but right now they are in his room. They are on his bed—Baekhyun is _his_ lover and he is _Baekhyun’s_ while they’re both in here—so he guides Baekhyun’s attention back to him with a hand on the man’s nape. He pulls Baekhyun down, closer and closer, until there’s something else to occupy his favourite’s pretty mouth with.

 

“Stop that,” He mumbles an order as he takes Baekhyun’s bottom lip between his, biting gently and coaxing for the mouth to open for him.

 

His hands slide down to the slender waist, soft underneath the sweater and tracing wide lines with his palm all over the smooth skin. He smiles against the kiss and catches the small moan. Baekhyun doesn’t stop him when he yanks the towel out of his hands and replaces it with his fingers, linking their hands together and holding them at their sides. He leaves the man no choice but to give in, to open up to him and let himself be explored more deeply and pour all weight for him to carry.

 

Chanyeol lets Baekhyun be the one to end it with a wet smack, and he opens his eyes to the sight of Baekhyun making and trying to hide his tiny pants, staring everywhere else but his eyes again before hiding in his chest.

 

_Ah—_

 

Cute.

 

"You can still work. Right here. Talk my ears off," His lover quietly convinces, face still out of sight but with hips straddling his waist as if to guarantee he wouldn't suddenly run off to Dream and report in for work.

 

Chanyeol doesn’t point out how unnecessary this is, never one to intentionally sabotage any chance to have them this close to each other. "I actually have little to say," he replies instead.

 

"I'm sorry Zampano baby, but I want to talk to Chanyeol today," He thinks Baekhyun is actually smiling when the man mutters against his chest. "Really. You have to talk to me now since you already talked so much while you were asleep."

 

He _may_ have swallowed nervously before asking, "What did I say?"

 

"That you missed me. A lot."

 

"Oh... was there anything else?"

 

"You said you didn't want me to leave," Baekhyun answers, lifting himself to peek at him now.

 

Chanyeol waits for the man to react; to add something. Maybe to even demand an explanation or a clarification, because he has never voiced out things like that before. They sort of… just avoided talking about things like that.

 

 _He_ avoided talking about things like that.

 

"Is that why you're here...?" He questions. _‘Because I was sick and was spouting nonsense?’_

 

The towel makes its appearance when Baekhyun drops it on his face, "Do you want me to go then?"

 

He doesn't see Baekhyun frown, although he _does_ feel the latter move to get off.

 

 _“Don’t,”_ Chanyeol hisses as he hooks an arm around Baekhyun’s waist to keep the man in place, earning himself a rather coy smile and a body that inches a little lower south. With an awkward twisting in his gut, he coughs, "Why would you buy my schedule?"

 

"What do you mean _why_?" Baekhyun almost shouts at him. Whatever amount of amusement he had given his client just seconds ago, it fast scrunches into an expression of disbelief. "I did it for _you_ , of course. You never texted back. You even switched your phone off. I was worried, you big—"

 

"You were worried? About me?" He doesn’t mean to interrupt, but the fluttering in his chest cannot be silenced and he feels it demanding to be let out.

 

"What's with that smile? Huh? Have you always been an idiot? Have you always been like this, huh?" He gets his nose pinched again. God, he almost missed it. "Hm? Have you?"

 

Chanyeol swears his smile has a mind of its own, especially when it grows even wider after he pulls and catches Baekhyun's mouth with his again.

 

"Okay, okay, stopping," He presses a soft kiss on those amazing lips, then another, and another. "I’m honoured you believed me to be a smart man, though."

 

He doesn't remember why he went out to drink and to forget. He doesn't think about how he ended up curled on his bathroom floor in the first place. Right now, it's just Byun Baekhyun.

 

Right now, he's happy.

 

Chanyeol rolls them over so he has Baekhyun trapped underneath him, all soft and warm and simply everything he's ever wanted. Beautiful, with bright eyes and pink lips, and a smile that makes him question how he has ever thought it was fine to live the way he used to. Baekhyun is too beautiful, small, and cute under him.

 

Would Baekhyun hit him if he were to say it out loud?

 

"I can talk about anything then? Anything?"

 

The hand Baekhyun raises up to his hair is gentle. It goes to tuck a damp lock behind his ear so it doesn't get in the way of his eyes. Suddenly, Baekhyun is laughing at the way he’s been staring.

 

"Why are you asking so many questions when I'm letting you take revenge for all the times I've bored you?"

 

"You're never boring," Chanyeol quickly answers, as if on auto-pilot. His heart starts to race when he runs his hands down the subtle curves of his favourite's clothed thighs, swallowing audibly when the legs easily spread for him. He looks up at the man splayed on his bed, questioning, "I thought you wanted me to rest?"

 

"I do, so you just lay down today and let me do all the work," Baekhyun lifts himself to brush soft lips against his forehead, then down to another pair of soft lips.

 

"Didn't I say I'll make it up to you?" His favourite whispers teasingly in his ear. "You only have two days left to watch me, though."

 

Baekhyun suddenly squeaks, pulling away from the younger man.

 

Before the man can glance down, Chanyeol descends on his mouth, quick to distract him with a hungry kiss. Baekhyun muffles a small laugh when he opens an eye to take a peek and spots elfish ears, bubbling when he sees how red Chanyeol’s ears easily are, before he focuses on the tongue that is more demanding to be let in this time.

 

The towel around Chanyeol’s hips come loose, and Baekhyun slithers a hand between them to cup the hardness of a long, eager cock already pressing itself against him, firmly squeezing the base and giving it a few hard strokes. He grants the underside a long and satisfying caress, too. He swallows the deep grunt that escapes his host's frustrated mouth and encourages him with his own. He kisses back with fervour, running his tongue along Chanyeol's teeth as he lets his hips be lifted, boxers and ripped jeans now harshly pulled over mid-thighs. He laughs guiltily at the way Chanyeol keeps going back to his lips instead of letting himself whine over the damned pants.

 

Why does Chanyeol torture himself like this...?

 

"Alright, puppy, wait," Baekhyun pushes Chanyeol off with another small laugh and slaps the big paws away when they impatiently try to make a grope.

 

He kicks the pants and boxers off before sliding back down on the sheets, laying down on his stomach and before spreading his legs to bare himself to the man watching him. _Rrrrip!_ goes the packet of lube, and maybe all the concern Chanyeol ever had for his own health in favour of getting what he and his dick both want. The host breathes— _gulps_ —at all the blood continuing to rush to his cheeks and down south at the sight of Baekhyun on all fours, so fucking small in an oversized sweater pushed up to a teaser of a smooth, beautiful back. _Just for him._

 

Baekhyun continues to blush, turning even more red at how the younger man has eyes trained on just him. Suddenly feeling shy, he turns away from Chanyeol, from the man’s dark eyes, and makes himself comfortable.

 

"Just... sit back for a bit," He shakily tells his host, swallowing and closing his eyes.

 

He takes a deep breath, with legs spread, and rests his head on a pillow as he drags his hand down. He teases the flesh of his thighs, tracing the path from his own cock up to his curves. He licks his lips as he spreads himself. Then he moans in a way that is intentionally seductive, with face down and ass up as he fingers his own entrance, putting up a show for Chanyeol who's now slowly pumping his own cock while intently watching the digits sink even slower inside.

 

Chanyeol’s breath hitches when the fingers come back out slick and wet. Even the sight of lube dripping out with them is enough to make him admonish his own dick for strongly demanding to join in. _‘Don’t be so spoiled,’_ he scolds his second head, but his favourite releases the _cutest_ whimpers—and _oh_ , Chanyeol realizes that he is such a weak, _weak_ man—as Baekhyun thrusts repeatedly into himself, knuckle deep, stretching the ring of muscles and coating his own walls to prepare himself for something _much_ bigger and longer than a pianist's delicate fingers.

 

The worst comes when Baekhyun gasps an amazing tortured sound, having found the bundle of nerves that makes white flash in his eyes and his legs shiver. The moans come… intensifying even more with how much deeper and harder the favourite can fuck himself. Chanyeol takes a long, deep breath as he licks his own lip and slowly _groans_ at the sight of the man he wants— _so much_ —rut and make love to his bed.

 

Fuck, watching Baekhyun pleasure himself makes being hard _so_ damn easy and having a dick so damn _painful_. Getting to see Baekhyun rutting against _his_ sheets, _whimpering_ and _moaning_ as if there wasn’t anyone else in the room with him, turns him on so damn much. To think that someone so perfect for him exists out there and they almost never met...

 

 _God_ , Byun Baekhyun.

 

"Y-You can keep watching—" Baekhyun continues to moan, eyes glistening and hips rocking as he starts to brush against his sweet spot and frantically stroke himself.

 

"—or you can let me do the fucking for you," Chanyeol huskily finishes for him, slapping the hands away and gripping the hips closer to him, dragging the sheets underneath with his favourite. _He can’t take any more of this._

 

Baekhyun yelps at being manhandled before his legs tremble in pleasure and his mouth hangs open to release another lewd moan as Chanyeol swiftly sheathes his whole length inside him. He feels his walls stretch to accommodate his host, clenching around the entire hot length, and he exhales a long sigh as he gets himself to relax a little more before he attempts to move. He loves how _full_ Chanyeol makes him as he begins to roll his hips. He encircles it, very slowly, before he pulls away from Chanyeol’s cock and helps himself into shallow thrusts. He feels _so_ full and wet and _hot_ , and oh if he feels _this_ then Chanyeol must love how tight he clenches around him.

 

True enough, he feels Chanyeol instinctively respond to him and thrust forward with a small hiss. He lets out a tiny cry at the sensation of a hard, hot cock head pushing and slipping past his rim before disappearing inside him, inch by slow, careful inch. He arches his back and, noisily, he licks his lips again and throws a fleeting glance behind him and at his host’s ever lustful eyes, before he finally pushes back against Chanyeol’s hips to claim the whole cock as _his_ again.

 

Baekhyun permits his lover to move. He chokes at the first slam, and he tries to catch his breath when Chanyeol rests hot palms above his hips and starts to snap their bodies together—in _fast, powerful_ thrusts—making his breath hitch and his body shudder. It slows into a calmed rocking that has tight groans and deep breaths escaping his parted lips... until Chanyeol decides that they won't do because he wants to hear slutty screams instead.

 

And Baekhyun does scream— _harder_ ,  _faster, harder_ —and feels no guilt about letting himself be fucked by a man five years younger than him, even spreading his legs wider and begging for Chanyeol to just _fuck him_. He just wants this. He wants Chanyeol to be _rough_ with him until he can’t hold himself up anymore; until he's a crying mess of heat and arousal and there's no other choice but to surrender and let his host take complete control.

 

" _Do not_ ," Chanyeol sharply warns when Baekhyun tries to touch himself.

 

He wants Baekhyun to cum from just having a cock ramming inside him. He wants Baekhyun to get off to the memory of them _fucking_ like this for the next time Baekhyun thinks to finger himself. He holds himself back from speaking again, wanting to monopolize the _sinful_ noises that the man beneath him makes, but once he realizes that Baekhyun loves his voice even more when it's heavy with authority, he presses their bodies closer and growls hotly in Baekhyun’s ear.

 

“How badly do you want this?” He teases, forcing Baekhyun to lower to the sheets beneath them for the man’s cock to brush against while he _agonizingly_ slows his thrusts.

 

"Chanyeol—Chanyeol, don’t stop—please, _please_ —" Baekhyun mewls and whimpers, eyes clouded when the cock inside him forcefully pushes its way in him and just— _stops_. The cock is big, he feels so full, and the tip is snug against his prostate, just right but not _enough_. He needs just a little more, but he can’t help himself when his lover had gone ahead and tied the loose ends of the sweater to keep him from moving, from cumming faster. “Please Chanyeol, _move_ —”

 

“How _badly_ do you want to cum, babe?” Chanyeol repeats, and it leads him to think that the only downfall this position has is that he can't see the expression on Baekhyun's face when his favourite starts to absolutely beg for release.

 

He fans a hot breath against the singer’s neck, bending over to sneak a hand beneath them and wrap around the base of the weeping cock. The man muffles his frustrated screams by shoving himself down the pillow and _biting_ , while the host chuckles at the former’s misery and simply spreads his _dear client_ ’s legs wider. Baekhyun curses him but moans wantonly anyway, with thighs quivering and ass red under the _slap_ of his host’s warm palm.

 

“ _So bad_. I want to cum _so_ bad,” Baekhyun exhales, voice hoarse and completely debauched as the large hand rubs the tender skin of his butt, squeezing and giving it a light tap.

 

That makes him smile. He even lets out a small, delighted laugh. His host has never done it before, slapping his ass.

 

He… loves it.

 

“You like that, baby?” Baekhyun teases, breathless, as he presses his hips backwards against the other man's. “I do too. But I want _you_ so much more, Yeol.”

 

Chanyeol can only curse as he releases a cross between a heavy sigh and a tortured groan.

 

 _Ahhh_ , why must Baekhyun say it like that?

 

Why must he be so weak against Baekhyun? No matter what, he’s the slave here. He's just Baekhyun's servant to heed every sexual beck and call.

 

“Let me see you,” Chanyeol says. “Let me look at you.”

 

It's not a request. But it's not a command either. If his lover says no then he will oblige.

 

All he wants is Baekhyun to feel great. All he wants is to give Baekhyun what the man deserves. He will give all of him if Baekhyun ever were to ask.

 

“O… okay,” His favourite answers; lets him change their position so Baekhyun rests on his side.

 

Damn it, a man can only hold on for so long when his partner looks so fucking delicious. For once, since the first night they have spent together, Baekhyun looks terribly shy. Chanyeol cannot fathom whatever for when Baekhyun is perfect in his eyes.

 

He moves, never taking his gaze off the man underneath him, and fills his lover with slow but hard thrusts, burying himself deep every time. He watches Baekhyun’s mouth open into soft gasps and wishes he could kiss those lips all the time. He _needs_ to know... exactly _just_ how much _can_ a person adore another?

 

“Can I kiss you?” Chanyeol asks, feeling the necessity to catch his breath.

 

Baekhyun only laughs at him… then there are arms encircling his neck to guide him down.

 

He kisses Baekhyun's eyes.

 

Then the tip of Baekhyun's nose...

 

Before he finally kisses Baekhyun's lips.

 

Baekhyun looks _absolutely_ beautiful with red lips, with his expression burdened with the desperation that comes hand in hand with the high of release. Baekhyun is always beautiful, even if it’s without the eyeliner or covered thinly in sweat. He believes Baekhyun looks especially good when the red has decided to also grace his cheeks, whether it’s because he’s got his mouth filled or laughing in a way that other people must find obnoxious.

 

Chanyeol cums inside tonight, as well. It's something he never thought he would enjoy this much, but perhaps it's only because it’s Baekhyun. He finds Baekhyun so, so appetizing when the man is dripping with his cum, but all in all and more than that, Baekhyun is beautiful. To him, Byun Baekhyun is beautiful and is deserving of all that Chanyeol can offer.

 

Beautiful and cute in the middle of his big bed and that big sweater too, he has to admit.

 

"... Are you actually mad?" Chanyeol asks his favourite with a hand already on the latter’s back, ready to give a massage if Baekhyun were in any pain.

 

"No,” The singer kind of… croaks a grumble.

 

It makes him guilty, especially when he realizes that the man refuses to completely roll over, “Was it too much?”

 

“No, I loved it. Just… how dare you stop me," Baekhyun rasps later, sweaty and spent and covered in both of their cum beneath the admirably durable sweater.

 

Before he can reply, the older man tugs him down from where he's lying beside him and hooks a leg over his shoulder. The view is far from something to complain about, Chanyeol discovers.

 

"Do it again," Baekhyun orders him with a small and playful laugh, slowly licking his own lips while staring right back. “Come on, puppy.”

 

Chanyeol gets a painless whack when he just keeps staring for a few more seconds. The sight of Baekhyun’s tongue is very distracting. In his defense, Baekhyun does _many_ things that he finds distracting.

 

“Fine, fine. So impatient,” He only laughs handsomely in response to Baekhyun’s display of aggression before he concedes and spreads the man's legs under him again.

 

Then something clicks in his head. He remembers how deep in trouble he actually is, realizing that Baekhyun looks incredible in his bed like this. He _actually_ thinks Baekhyun can make anything sexy, even if it's _just_ a dumb and oversized knit sweater.

 

Is this what people call whipped...?

 

"What’s with that face…?” Baekhyun squirms under his gaze and pulls the hem of the sweater down to cover himself, suddenly self-conscious. “You didn't like doggy?"

 

Chanyeol shakes his head to snap himself out of it. Then he pushes his favourite’s legs up, bending them with palms behind thighs and lowering himself to brush their lips. Baekhyun shies from him at first but ends up being the one to pull him in deeper. The resulting sigh ultimately become the catalyst for Chanyeol to give in as well and turn the peck into a kiss when the man in his arms closes his eyes and tilts his head to give him access.

 

He leaves the warm mouth to trace the line of a jaw, trailing more kisses until he reaches the dip of Baekhyun’s collarbone. He takes his reward in the form of more sighs and a moan. Honestly, he can make Baekhyun make those sounds all day and he’d still want to hear more.

 

Always more. Always more of Baekhyun. He sounds so selfish, but maybe he has always been. Or maybe it's really just Baekhyun.

 

He has never wanted anyone so badly like this.

 

"I… guess I just like it better when I can see your face," Chanyeol finally replies when he pulls away and smiles.

 

It’s an honest answer. Perhaps a bit too thoughtless, as well, because all he sees is a blush so red bursting in his lover’s cheeks before Baekhyun is suddenly smothering himself with a pillow, entirely beating the purpose of having Baekhyun face him this time.

 

"Ya, you can't do that!" He tries to snatch the pillow away and almost gets kicked somewhere it is _guaranteed_ to hurt. "Alright, _alright_. How about I stop, if you stop being cute?"

 

" _Oh god, just shut up_ —" Baekhyun whines indignantly, shoving his face away and rolling out of bed.

 

He easily throws his favourite back down with a laugh, " _You_ said I can tell you anything."

 

“I want Zampano back,” Baekhyun whines even more, embarrassed.

 

 _‘Zampano wouldn't love you like this,’_ Chanyeol almost says.

 

Despite that, he appeases his favourite with more kisses and a promise to zip his lips when they have sex again. Of course, he keeps it, as with every other promise he has sworn to Baekhyun, and focuses on the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin while he keeps quiet the abundant thoughts that start with _‘I missed you’_ and stills the tongue that is tipped with _countless_ confessions while working only towards satisfying them both.

 

He groans heavily at the feeling of being inside his favourite again, incredibly hot and _wet_. Tight and slick and perfect. More importantly, his.

 

Right now, _his_.

 

_Baekhyun is his._

 

“You’re doing great, babe,” He whispers in Baekhyun’s ear before he presses a kiss there to chase one of the tears away. “You’re always _so amazing_.”

 

Suddenly he realizes this feels different, somehow.

 

This time feels different. Without the bite marks and the scratches on his back or the pressure of giving Baekhyun something to remember him by, even if only for a couple of days, it feels more intimate. It’s just the two of them in his room. It’s just them in his bed, just him inside Baekhyun. Dare he say this time is special…? Can he?

 

Why does he have to think about the difference between making love and having sex right now?

 

Why do I torture myself like this?

 

(He never learns, does he?)

 

Because it's the only time Baekhyun wants him to go slow, where they both have time to relish each other's heat and explore what he hasn't been allowed to before. This time, Baekhyun lets him be the kind of slow and careful that he has always wanted to be. He makes thorough love to Baekhyun, even if it’s only he who really knows making love is what this is to him.

 

“Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?” He reminds before he kisses Baekhyun with everything he has, just in case this time ends up becoming another memory; before this time ends up being _just_ another memory.

 

It’s the only time he fails to realize Baekhyun is crying, _really_ crying against his neck, not because of how good it feels.

 

It's the first and only time Baekhyun quietly says, _‘I love you,’_ but Chanyeol is too busy holding the one at the tip of his own tongue to hear it.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

It's almost three in the morning when Chanyeol finds himself alone in his bed, hand groping around the sheets and fully knowing someone else should be there. With his heart nervously hammering in its cage, the first thing he checks is his phone. There's... nothing.

 

Okay.

 

That's okay… things are okay.

 

He sits upright, comforter falling off a bare chest, and slips out of the bed to look for Baekhyun. He finds his lover in the bathroom through the gap in the door. He pauses, leaning against the frame instead of stepping inside just yet.

 

"—as your flight? ... Mhm?"

 

He hears Baekhyun quip, a cheerful note in his voice but an irrefutable slump in his favourite’s shoulders as the man hunches over his lavatory.

 

"It must be cold there. Did you see your coat? Eh—I packed it in your suitcase… _Oh_ ," The singer suddenly mutters, dejected. "I'm sorry, I guess I got the wrong one..."

 

Chanyeol feels his heart threaten to twist, hearing the undeniable disappointment only for it to be quickly smothered with so much enthusiasm. It hurts to hear one thing and see something else entirely.

 

"No, it's okay. That one is warmer~ You can't afford to catch a cold now."

 

It pains him to think that Baekhyun might be more used to this, to being left behind. He dislikes seeing his favourite look a lot smaller than he really is. He thinks he understands now just a bit more.

 

He believes Baekhyun should just stay with him just a bit more. He thinks he can do better a whole lot more. He _can_ do a lot better.

 

He _already_ does a whole lot better, doesn’t he?

 

"Jeju...? Oh. Jeju is nice, as usual. By the way, I hope you don't mind, I decided to take that vacation."

 

Chanyeol enters the bathroom, careful not to make noise, before he closes the door quietly behind him and approaches.

 

"Hm? No, no... Just a week. I'm..."

 

Through the mirror, he watches Baekhyun discreetly wipe his eyes and irritably tug another one of his sweater's sleeves to his palms for the nth time. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't really remember seeing his favourite in those before. It's always the smart casual ensembles from work or his own spare shirts that are always a solid size or two larger.

 

_Why does he even keep doing that?_

 

"Yes, I'm okay. It... it doesn't hurt anymore. No, it didn't—I know, I know."

 

 _‘What doesn't hurt...?’_ Chanyeol perks up at the words, brows knitting together.

 

"Jongdae? He's—uhm," Baekhyun finally notices him through the mirror, eyes widening and glancing over his own shoulder. "He said he's busy? He has another musical to produce."

 

When he finally comes close enough, Chanyeol laces an arm around one fuller hip and rests his head behind his favourite's shoulder. He lowers his gaze just so Baekhyun doesn't have to worry about how he would react or what he would do after he grasps one of the sweater paws, fingers curling just below the wrist; the one that Baekhyun isn't using to hold his phone.

 

"It's almost four. You must be tired too," Baekhyun pretends to yawn despite being tense. He sounds convincing. "Let me know when I can call you again, okay?"

 

And with that, the call ends, and Baekhyun glances nervously at him.

 

"Chanyeol, this isn't—"

 

"Let me see," Chanyeol cuts in.

 

Baekhyun is silent as he lets himself be maneuvered to face the man whose eyes are dark for different reasons. He remains stoic, arms still in his lover's grasp.

 

"I'm fine, okay?" He says, looking defiantly up at his host. However, he shrinks the very moment that Chanyeol raises one paw and tugs the sleeve down.

 

There’s… _purple_. Deep, dark, and angry as it loops around the small wrist. _Anyone_ who looks at it will know something dug deep into the skin. A rope, perhaps…?

 

They both wince—Chanyeol at the _bruise_ that shouldn't be there, and Baekhyun at the face his lover makes.

 

"W-Whatever it is, it's not what you think. He isn't like that," his favourite quickly defends. "It was consensual."

 

"Hasn't it been days...?" Chanyeol questions, feeling himself flare. _How_ could he not have noticed it sooner? "Why is _this_ still here?"

 

He could have been hurting Baekhyun earlier, _he could have been hurting Baekhyun more the entire time—_

 

"Wasn't he being _too rough_ with you?” He suddenly remembers the unsettling call he received, realizing Baekhyun doesn't even _fucking know_ about it, and he becomes more infuriated at _this_. “Didn't he—"

 

"I _wanted_ it, okay?" Baekhyun reiterates as he rips himself free. "It was always me who always initiated things. _That_ was the first time he did and I _wanted_ it."

 

"He _hurt_ you."

 

"And I said I’m _fine_. I told you we _both_ wanted it."

 

This is the part where he should've dropped it, where he should've remembered he's not as an important part of this equation and its solution no matter how strongly he felt. But, instead, Chanyeol let himself boil and pour over, " _How_ is this fine, Baek? How is _hurting_ you fine?"

 

"I wanted to feel like how it used to be—"

 

" _This_ is how it used to be?" Even though he lets Baekhyun slip under his arm to run for the door, Chanyeol's voice undeniably rises and crashes down the walls like thunder.

 

"I _wanted_ to feel like he still wants me! So _please_ , Chanyeol, let's just forget about this!"

 

" _How can I?_ Where the hell was he after he did it? Where is he _now_?" He spits, through gritted teeth and clenched fists, and Baekhyun stops. "Don't I make you feel wanted enough? I won't do this to you, Baekhyun. I don't have to hurt you _just_ so I can tell you— _just_ so you'd _know_ I want you!"

 

_Why would you let him hurt you? Why must you be reminded this way? If he loves you then why do you have to be reminded at all?_

 

All this time he had been so careful. So, _so_ fucking careful because he didn't want Baekhyun to hurt more than he already does, more than himself already does. He didn’t want Baekhyun to ever know how painful being hurt can get. It simply feels too unfair that someone out there can just decide they _want_ to hurt Baekhyun; simply to leave such jealous marks; to extend and remind Baekhyun of their presence even when they’re _thousands of miles_ apart.

 

It's just _too_ fucking unfair to know— _to remember_ —that Baekhyun is in a relationship with someone who doesn't think that Baekhyun deserves to be his priority.

 

It's a sharp slap to his face, a stab to his heart from reality; that though they may be lovers inside his bedroom, Baekhyun is not his. Outside and everywhere else, he's just the other guy. He's still _just_ the other man.

 

He hears shuffling and he knows Baekhyun has fled.

 

Chanyeol exhales a deep breath, knuckles white and lower lip bleeding for how hard he's bitten it when he follows the other back into their room.

 

It's almost five in the morning, it's still dark outside, and even more in his apartment with the lights still off when he finds Baekhyun sitting at the foot of the bed, a small figure in his large damn sweater and a larger bed, looking down at the floor with resignation.

 

"I know," Baekhyun quietly says when their eyes meet. He's also the one to look away first. "That's why I'm here. Because you can make me feel better no matter what it is you do. Or not do. No matter what, you make me feel like I'm always important."

 

 _Because you_ are _. You_ are _important to me._

 

And let it be known, that no matter how furious Park Chanyeol is, it's Byun Baekhyun that he still thinks about. Byun Baekhyun who fits right in his arms, Byun Baekhyun who makes him feel like everything about himself makes sense—his height, his weird ears, his large smile—because it just makes a lot of sense that everything about Park Chanyeol complements everything about Byun Baekhyun. It just makes _so much sense_ for him to be in love with Byun Baekhyun.

 

He doesn't throw a chair, doesn't shout, although he _wants_ to. He _wants_ to have something to occupy his cold hands and lying mouth with. Instead, he just stands in front of the older man, wishing they had met outside of Dream or earlier, _much earlier_ than Baekhyun met his goddamn boyfriend. Just _wishing_ , because there's nothing else to do with a tight fist and a clenched jaw, except for when Baekhyun raises his arms to him in invitation and he finds that there _is_ another choice—to let it go; to forget that this ever happened and _let go._

 

But Chanyeol can't.

 

"So… what does that make me?"

 

Right now, he _can't_.

 

"What _am_ I to you, Baek? What _exactly_ am I?"

 

A part of himself is screaming at him to stop— _stop it right now_ —wherever he plans to take this to, because he already knows where this is going to go and this... _this_ is not what he wants; to make Baekhyun cry is not what he wants. He already knows what’s going to happen if he continues.

 

(But what even is it really that he wants anymore?)

 

"Chanyeol, please—"

 

"Because _I_ know I'm a host, Baek. I'm _just_ a host. I lie to people but lying is not what I do for you. It's not what I do to spend time with you. A host is _not_ what I am to you, Baek."

 

Baekhyun's eyes are red when he gently cups his face in his bigger hands, when he kneels in front of him and forces both of them to look straight ahead, at each other. It's not just his hands that are trembling the slightest, but also Baekhyun's as they rest over his shoulders, trying to tell—to beg—him to stop when Baekhyun’s mouth can't seem to remember its purpose and beg him to _please don't do this now._

 

_Don’t do this._

 

Chanyeol feels acid behind the lids of his own eyes.

 

"You just said so yourself. I'm—I'm _not_ your boyfriend and if… If I _can't_... if I'm not _even_ your secret boyfriend, then do you know what that makes me...? A whore. I'm _your whore_ , Baekhyun. All this time, I've literally been just the cock you sit on when your real boyfriend isn't available."

 

"That's... you're wrong, you're _not_ —"

 

"Tell me what's _right_ then," He forces himself not to shout when he replies, because it already hurts him to watch the tears escape the corners of Baekhyun's eyes. " _Tell me_. Tell me _why_ I'm wrong instead of _just_ saying I’m wrong."

 

 _Tell me I'm_ more _than that._

 

But Baekhyun says nothing. Because they both know it's closer to the truth than anything else is, and that there's nothing left to say.

 

Baekhyun is gone after the apartment shakes and the door slams shut.

 

Gone... just like that.

 

It's five twenty-four in the morning when Chanyeol finds himself alone in his bed, crying for someone who should still be there.

 

(He wants Baekhyun… _all_ he wants is Baekhyun.)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Chanyeol does not know everything about Baekhyun's feelings, and vice versa.  
> 2\. Nobody really knows everything since nobody is willing to talk about it. :(  
> 3\. _Everyone_ is to be blamed for _at least_ one thing.  
>  4\. Since they're real boyfriends, _yes_ , Kyungsoo and Baekhyun _do_ have sex.  
>  4\. Also, yes... Kyungsoo _knows_.


	5. Legato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baekhyun didn't want to think, but one thought led to another, then another—and the next thing he knows, every single thing he buried in the back of his tired mind has managed to slither back to eat him alive.

 

Kyungsoo is there when he comes home… asleep on their couch; a prominent knot between his brows and arms crossed over his chest.

 

He feels like his heart set its noose up even higher. He thought he couldn't possibly hurt more than he already does yet here he is, hurting and hurting so much more as he kneels in front of the man innocent of his own unfaithfulness and quietly cries some more. Despite what he feels, he weeps between Kyungsoo's legs like the dirtiest whore asking for a priest's pardon.

 

Yet, even a whore is better than what he is. At least whores sleep around to feed themselves. They do it because it's necessary, not because they feel like it's the only thing they can and have left to offer; because it isn't necessarily the only thing good enough about them to convince someone to stay.

 

Kyungsoo stirs at the dampness his tears have made on his boyfriend's thighs. It's dark in their apartment, but it still isn't dark enough to hide himself when his boyfriend nudges him. "Hyun...? Hey, what are you doing?"

 

_I'm sorry._

 

"Hyun, get up," His boyfriend orders, voice hardened and husky by the sudden awakening, before leaning forward to grab his arm.

 

_I'm really sorry._

 

"I said get up, Baekhyun."

 

He can't feel his legs. He's just so exhausted. He's grateful for when Kyungsoo pulls him to his feet instead of pushing him away when he initiates an embrace. His boyfriend—his real one—dislikes surprises and normally shies away from displays of affection, and yet Kyungsoo lets him hug him without warning.

 

Baekhyun doesn't ask, _‘What if it isn't the same anymore?’_ and, for what feels like the first time after a very long time, he falls asleep in Kyungsoo's arms.

 

That's it.

 

Maybe he should have asked.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"O-Oh my go—"

 

He gets a mini heart attack when the door swings itself open and his phone suddenly detects another person's face. Through the front camera, he can see Chanyeol's big eyes, blinking and curious. Baekhyun sighs in relief.

 

For a second, he truly thought Chanyeol is the ghost that has come to visit. His host’s hair and shirt are dark. They make the other man’s fair skin stand out more against the darker background that is the adjacent bedroom.

 

"What are you doing?" Chanyeol asks him, staring at their image over his shoulder and glancing at him through it. "You're not starting anything without me, are you?"

 

He breathes sharply when an arm shoots around his waist and pulls him backwards onto a hard chest. He instinctively shies away as soon as he feels a nose nuzzle into his neck, not that being in someone bigger's grasp really gives him much space to skitter away. Or space at all. It's much more difficult to speak when he's busy trying to smother the reflex to giggle.

 

"I-I'm not—doing anything," He tries to say and struggles to continue holding his phone up because Chanyeol is blowing puffs at his neck. It's making him ticklish, uncomfortable, and fuzzy and—"Chanyeol, s-sto—"

 

— _damn it,_ he can't stop laughing.

 

_Click._

 

"Taking pictures without me, hm?" Chanyeol suddenly stops and smiles, poking at the new-born selca in his hands. "Hey, send that to me."

 

Baekhyun immediately looks up in question. It's just him smiling. He doesn't even have makeup on. He looks so... plain. It's stupid and horri—

 

"You look wonderful," he hears Chanyeol tell him, absolutely out of the blue, before he gets an embrace and a kiss.

 

He... doesn't want to believe Chanyeol even though his host only speaks beautiful things to him. It’s hard to believe someone else’s praises when he knows how awful he really is. Besides, Chanyeol is a liar and he’s completely aware of this fact.

 

Baekhyun doesn't want to admit that he enjoys fooling himself with every little lie that comes out of Chanyeol’s pretty mouth.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"Do you remember where we first met? The small _tteokbokki_ stand in front of the agency? The one where we used to huddle together like penguins?" Baekhyun quips, hugging a pillow close to him and focused on an undercover Zampano on their TV.

 

From the corner of his eye, he sees his boyfriend pause from the book in his own hand to glance at him.

 

"Where you'd always steal my order before you'd tell me I had a nice voice?" Kyungsoo replies, as if commenting about the weather, before going back to pretending that they aren't in the same room again.

 

"You still do!" Baekhyun squirms from his end of their couch to begin to scoot closer to his boyfriend, flashing a cutesy grin when the latter immediately shoots him a look.

 

 _Behave_ ,’ it says, or more commonly, ‘ _Don't disturb me.’_ So he obeys. He ends up in the middle of their couch, big pillow laying across his thighs. The body pillow is long enough to cover the rest of the gap between them, which he dislikes. How come the pillow can cross but he can't? He pouts.

 

To appease him, Kyungsoo asks, "I do what?"

 

"You still have a nice voice."

 

"You of all people should know it's so-so."

 

"I of all people would know it's more than just so-so, my dear baby Soo. You were definitely born a singer."

 

Kyungsoo doesn't frown. Maybe.

 

"But I'm not a singer, Hyun."

 

 _‘You were. You were going to be_ ,’ Baekhyun forces himself to smile as he lies down, rolling around and playfully raising his legs a little to appear nonchalant. "It could've been the two of us singing What is Love, though."

 

When he receives no response, he keeps to himself again and continues to watch Yenicall make a beautiful laugh at Zampano's chagrin, who has to humor some guy in a bar to get information and is now trapped between fulfilling his work and the desire to run after his lady.

 

"They were going to pick you. If you hadn't left," He mutters, absentmindedly beginning to ramble. "Imagine both our voices toge—"

 

His boyfriend takes this moment to finally slot the bookmark in between the book’s pages and closes it. Then Kyungsoo stands and asks, "I'm going to lay down for a while. Are you going to stay up all night again?"

 

Baekhyun instantly sits upright and switches the TV off. The temperature takes a dip when he catches a glimpse of his boyfriend's expression. Did... Did he mess it up? Urgh... he shouldn't have brought it up.

 

"Hey. Want a massage before you go?" He offers, masking the fact that he's suddenly anxiously while he hopes for an affirmative response.

 

Kyungsoo only gives a slight shake of the head. "No, it's fine."

 

He already expected that, really, although he wishes he didn't.

 

It's their last night before another period of filming officially starts. All they've done these past weeks is regular work. That is, in his case, anyway. They've simply done their own thing in each other's presence. Although he’s truly happy that his boyfriend’s most recent project is successful… the time Kyungsoo spent far away from him made him miss Kyungsoo.

 

Hasn't Kyungsoo missed him…? Won't Kyungsoo miss him when his boyfriend leaves again? Doesn't Kyungsoo want to make the most of their time now? He feels like he’s the only one that does. Is he the only one worried about the things that come after not spending enough time together?

 

"Are you sure? You've been kind of tense lately,” He reasons, clinging to that battered amount of hope; a bit more nervous. "They probably won't let you go sight-seeing in Shanghai like they did in Taiwan."

 

"I'm not going to Shanghai to go sight-seeing in the first place, Hyun," Kyungsoo reminds dryly, leaving the book on the low table and walking away.

 

Ah… Is Kyungsoo upset? He can't tell when Kyungsoo is upset anymore. Maybe Kyungsoo is. Even if it's only a little bit, Kyungsoo probably _is_ upset that he brought up singing again.

 

_Why am I such an idiot?_

 

"All the more reason to get that massage!" Thank god he doesn't stammer or stumble when he abandons the pillow on the couch and immediately reaches for his boyfriend's hand, painting a smile on his own face and tugging the latter towards their bedroom.

 

Before Kyungsoo can voice out a complaint, Baekhyun presses their lips together into a lingering kiss and promises, "We'll be quick so you can sleep."

 

He's going to pretend that he hasn't noticed something has changed between them while Kyungsoo lets him lead again; lets him set their pace once they're in their bedroom and takes off his clothes, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders and watching it drop to their floor alongside Kyungsoo’s belt. It’s just another cold war they're sweeping under the metaphorical rug while he pretends, especially when he has to open his mouth and get on his knees. He misses the times his boyfriend looked at him without a frown.

 

For a fleeting moment, he thinks about what could have happened if he had been the one to have cut his singing career short to become an actor instead of Do Kyungsoo. He feels like he would have done well for himself. Maybe then, he wouldn't be feeling like this.

 

Despite the thick ropes of bitterness hitting the back of his throat and dripping out of his lips, Byun Baekhyun smiles the same as always—sweetly, lovingly—and convinces himself that he and Kyungsoo are still okay. They're still okay. Because they _are_.

 

They're going to be.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

He didn't think it was that bad.

 

Or maybe he did.

 

Maybe he just didn't want to admit it.

 

Because really, why else would he continue to spread his legs for another man?

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

He leans against Chanyeol's chest again. This time, he has his legs crossed while he sits on top of his host's lap. He's in charge of holding their tub of extra cheesy popcorn because it's finally _The Thieves_ playing on the home theatre and he's now watching Yenicall gracefully walk over the wires that someone else has laid out for her to tread on. All of a sudden, he realizes he has already watched this movie before.

 

Chanyeol's hand keeps brushing against his own each time they both scoop for popcorn to place into their mouths.

 

Baekhyun gulps silently at this. Instead of being bothered by the unintentional skinship, he focuses on Zampano who's meticulously tending on the ropes for Yenicall's safety instead of on the way Chanyeol leans slightly forward to rest a chin on his shoulder. They're already too close… and they cannot possibly get closer without either of them shedding their clothes off. Underneath Chanyeol’s loose shirt, the shirt he likes wearing, his skin is breaking out into goosebumps and his heart is beating faster than it should.

 

 _‘That cannot possibly healthy,’_ he thinks before he reminds himself that he should ignore his heart’s restlessness and Chanyeol's warm grasp around his waist even more.

 

He remembers having thought of Zampano's honesty towards Yenicall adorable. Zampano is cute because the thief is rarely flustered but he easily is around his accomplice. Baekhyun finds himself smiling because it's so, _so_ painfully obvious that Zampano does his work even better when it involves Yenicall. They get along so well.

 

"Look, you're both puppies," He muses to Chanyeol while he also casually presses a popped kernel past his host's lips, all the while keeping his own eyes on the screen.

 

He releases a startled squeal, jerking from Chanyeol who has not only taken the popcorn, but has also just teased him with a small lick on his fingers.

 

"Even puppies bite," Chanyeol says with a low chuckle, appearing rather proud of himself while reaching for a wet wipe to clean his only dirty hand.

 

Even as his host does this, Baekhyun still finds himself secure on the younger man’s lap.

 

"So you do admit to being a puppy?" he asks, letting the other wipe his hands too when Chanyeol stops him from trying to lick the cheese off.

 

Seconds stretch into longer minutes and Chanyeol still doesn't reply, only plucks the empty tub to place it somewhere else. He ignores the pounding in his chest because his host is humming his song and embracing him as if it has always been Chanyeol's place, Chanyeol's responsibility, to be the boyfriend who isn't his.

 

To be honest, he's glad Chanyeol lets him just talk and talk without looking like he'd rather be doing something else. He likes to think that Chanyeol truly enjoys being with him. Even if it might be fake, it's better than not being there at all; it's better than nothing at all.

 

It's just great lip service, the things that his host says to him and the way this man acts. After all, Chanyeol is still Zampano and Zampano is still his host. A part of him fights for it being real while a bigger part of him surrenders that it's all just a show. It hurts him a little to realize that he's been trying to look where Zampano actually ends and where Chanyeol begins.

 

It hurts just a bit more that he can't confidently say he knows.

 

"Hey, Yeol?" He glances up at the younger man's handsome face, using his gaze to trace his host’s scrunched brows while the latter is idle and focused on the huge screen.

 

"Hm...?" He thinks Chanyeol must really like this movie. Maybe host Zampano is a puppy _because_ movie Zampano is a puppy.

 

"We can't see each other for a while," Baekhyun says a little later, weight resting against his host's and another weirder weight somewhere inside his chest.

 

He could really just disappear for a while. It's not like Chanyeol asks about what he does or why. It's not like Chanyeol cares when the man doesn't even respond to his texts. He could have just kept mum about it instead of telling his host, really, because it's not like Chanyeol is going—or has—to do anything about it.

 

"Are you going somewhere?" Chanyeol humours him anyway, like how he often hoped that Chanyeol would.

 

The image of Chanyeol in his head is patient, charming, and sweet. Chanyeol is affectionate, loving, and everything Baekhyun has never really thought of wanting. The Chanyeol he knows could very well be the definition of perfect.

 

The Chanyeol he believes in is simply too good for someone like Byun Baekhyun.

 

(This is what he pays for, right? ‘Perfection'?)

 

He glances away from the screen because it's the scene wherein Zampano gives himself up for Yenicall's freedom. He doesn't know whether he still thinks the boy cute for offering so much to someone who wouldn't ever give him her heart. It's awfully frustrating.

 

"My boyfriend is home," Baekhyun finally replies.

 

Chanyeol stops tracing shapes on the expanse of his thigh, then. For a moment, it makes him think that, maybe, Chanyeol actually hates it when he talks about things that don't involve Dream, work, or sex. He wonders how many times Chanyeol has wished for him to just shut up.

 

He hopes Chanyeol convinces him to stay the night again. Maybe to even leave the studio for good so he doesn't hear his best friend make any more jokes about his relationship that feels more like a plane crash than a submarine. He hopes Chanyeol distracts him long enough until it's too late to go home even if it's only to make him uphold his end of their agreement.

 

If he can be more selfish, he would hope for Chanyeol to tell him he's more than just a good fuck and a source of buck so he has a better and actual reason to hate himself for wanting this, for wanting Chanyeol, while he insists on being blind to what's really happening between him and Kyungsoo. But of course, Chanyeol doesn't. Chanyeol doesn't tell him anything aside from the lies he wants to hear.

 

“He is, huh...?” Chanyeol simply responds with a soft but audible, "Alright," and nothing else afterwards.

 

"...Mm'kay, then."

 

What did he expect, really? Chanyeol may not really care all that much in the first place. It's Chanyeol who proposed this arrangement, after all.

 

It's just sex, remember, Byun?

 

Baekhyun thinks his eyes are starting to sting but doesn't pay them any mind. Not like it matters while they continue to watch the rest of the movie in silence. His eyes have already dried again by the time Chanyeol lays him down on the sofa and starts to plant kisses in his mouth instead of his neck.

 

"Cheese," He laughs, pitying himself for expecting Chanyeol to taste like mint; pitying himself because he very well _knows_ Chanyeol normally tastes like mint, before he realizes that _being with_ Chanyeol feels like freedom.

 

He realizes that _Chanyeol_ feels like freedom, and something unexplainable catches in his throat. He laughs again. Only this time, he laughs at Chanyeol who appears to consider getting off to give himself a quick brush.

 

"No, no, it's okay!" He tells his host as he pulls the latter back down. "It's not like mine is any better."

 

He has _so_ many things that he wants Chanyeol to know, but…

 

Well, nevermind. It's better if he doesn't say anything. It'd make it easier for Chanyeol to quit him when the time finally comes.

 

So, he resorts to staring at the creamy ceiling of Zampano's room as he quietly lets pleasure spark from hot palms and ignite between his legs. He never runs out of Chanyeol's kisses and he has nothing else to ask for when he's already being given so much, but as someone who is so used to giving, and giving, and _giving_ , he's still afraid to ask if Chanyeol would let him turn his back just this one time.

 

"Bye, puppy," He tells Chanyeol, who's standing in the doorway shirtless again when it's time for him to leave. He laughs and reminds his dear host to throw a shirt on to avoid catching a cold. "I'll see you soon."

 

_Make me stay._

 

He continues to smile even when Chanyeol pulls him for one last kiss; when he kisses back and Chanyeol makes him almost want to give in to letting his knees go weak, and he thinks once more that maybe he really should have been an actor instead.

 

_Please make me stay._

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

There's a tremble in his voice and pinpricks in his eyes when he asks, "Do you love me?"

 

"What is this about...?" Kyungsoo replies instead of answering, and _that_ hurts.

 

Because all Kyungsoo has to do now is to say yes or no. It's he who laid it all out again and Kyungsoo just has to choose between two words. It wouldn't hurt _this_ much in the first place if he absolutely wasn't aware that Kyungsoo has never been the one to say it first.

 

Or at all.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

When Chanyeol asked, "How long am I going to wait this time?"

 

He smiled. He smiled another smile he was later going to despise and he tried his best not to think about it; about what Chanyeol could have meant. It was the first of so many more moments that he wanted to say, _‘If it were solely up to me, you wouldn't have to wait at all.’_

 

But he couldn't…

 

So he didn't.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

It was going to be the two of them.

 

"I haven't seen you around lately. Is recording that busy?"

 

They were going to be a team. They _were_ a team. It was the two of them. _Them._

 

"I quit."

 

But he was the last to know.

 

"I want to be an actor, Baek."

 

And he slowly realized Kyungsoo never planned to tell him anything _even_ when it was still the two of them taking the subway home in the wee hours of the morning.

 

"But you love singing," He said, confused; as if he just witnessed someone kick a dog they claimed to adore without any sort of provocation.

 

He watched Kyungsoo give the slightest shrug, "Not as much as I thought."

 

Four years of dreaming and crying over how tiring and frustrating it all were but continuing to do their best and singing at the top of their lungs anyway afterwards—

 

Thrown away on a whim.

 

 _Just_ like that.

 

Why did it happen? How? Didn't he matter to the person he called his partner? Didn't he matter enough to Kyungsoo?

 

"And you never thought of telling me?"

 

Why did Kyungsoo leave him?

 

"I don't have to tell you everything, Hyun."

 

Although he hated it, Baekhyun supposed that Kyungsoo had already given him the answer.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"You should've told me to loosen them up," Kyungsoo tells him while massaging his palms and treading ever so carefully on the purple over the skin of his wrists. With an apparent frown, his boyfriend adds, "Now it's going to hurt for days."

 

 _‘I did,’_ Baekhyun inwardly replies but decides to remain silent out of resignation, feeling like the better actor between the two of them as Kyungsoo surprisingly intertwines their fingers and brushes against his throbbing wrist.

 

(He can't tell if Kyungsoo is being nice or angry.)

 

It hurts. It hurts too much, so he winces and smiles to bite down a little whimper. If it were any other time, he would have squeezed the pillow in his arms to hide. He couldn't, however, because it hurts even more.

 

The bruises hurt. They hurt a lot. But maybe he deserves them for being a coward; for being such a shitty person. He probably deserves to want to not use his hands again.

 

In a way, it can be punishment for wanting to have someone else and for reaching out to Chanyeol even though he already has Kyungsoo; for letting Chanyeol hold his hands just because he knows Kyungsoo will let them go anyway, whether he holds onto Kyungsoo or not; for knowing it just isn't the same anymore but still hoping it might be so he keeps on clinging.

 

Sitting with Kyungsoo like this and knowing he's not supposed to expect an embrace hurts. Thinking of Chanyeol and how Chanyeol would say sorry and comfort him even when Chanyeol doesn't even really hurt him hurts. He's thinking of Chanyeol when he's _supposed_ to be enjoying being with Kyungsoo, _hurts_. Thinking about _why_ he's still here hurts.

 

 _It hurts_ but he's a coward so he deserves this.

 

"You should take that leave," D.O. suggests with his boyfriend’s lips.

 

"Ah… Yes, I'll… I’ll think about it."

 

God, how much more can he hate himself?

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

All he really wanted was someone to talk to.

 

He didn't want to think about work. He sure as hell didn't want to think about _Kyungsoo's_ work. More than that, he didn't want to think about how he was getting tired of this; of trying to find reasons to stay in the recording studio because looking for reasons to write love songs is better than trying to justify why it's suddenly easier to write about being alone.

 

He wasn't going to admit he wanted to cry when he could say he just needed more sleep. He just didn't want to think. He couldn't possibly be unhappy when he was committed to the person he has been in love with for so long while he also earns so much more than what he really needs. He wasn't going to admit he was unhappy.

 

There was _nothing_ to be unhappy about.

 

He was _not_ unhappy.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"I can't stand looking at you anymore, Baekhyun," He remembered the way Jongdae had sighed days before his best friend pulled him into Dream.

 

He had frowned at Jongdae and the eyeliner his best friend vehemently insisted that he put on. Irritated, he ended up smudging it and questioning why he had the people he did in his life. He wasn't unhappy and he definitely didn't need whatever Jongdae planned for him.

 

A host club? What the hell was a host club? What the hell was _he_ going to do in a host club?

 

"Pick one. Pick _anyone_. See if anyone can make you forget your shitty boyfriend for one night. If even _this_ place doesn't do the trick, then—then we forget this ever happened and we go back to pretending Dyo went to war and just never came back, okay?"

 

He scowled at Jongdae then, especially when his best friend merely repeated what had just been said. He wasn't blind or deaf, and he _definitely_ wasn't that stupid. Jongdae was insinuating that he meet someone else; _to_ _cheat._

 

Baekhyun admitted to being many things, but he _wasn't_ a cheat. "Whoever Suho is, he should teach you better ways to comfort people."

 

"Luckily for you, I don't pay him to talk about how to better tolerate my pitiful best friend."

 

" _Pitiful_ —forget it, I'm not going to do this," He told Jongdae before he had bumped onto someone tall, who was quick to zero in on him like he was a piece of meat.

 

That was Kris. And he had been so sure Jongdae was going to choose such an obvious asshole for him with the way his best friend’s eyes suddenly gleamed, deeming the tower as _the_ perfect fuckboy who would remind him that the world was filled with better men to feel bad about who weren't Kyungsoo.

 

Baekhyun was older. And, albeit long distance now, he was also in a relationship. He knew better than to humor the mere thought of spending a night with someone else. There was truly nothing wrong with the idea of meeting someone new to talk to, he simply didn't want to come near anyone who expected him to become a decoration in their bed.

 

He really didn't want anything to do with Kris, who made the hair on his nape stand with how forward the latter was.

 

Someone up in the heavens must have been listening to him and pitied him, because someone else came up to his side to pull him away. "Sorry, hyung, but this one's mine."

 

And he had been so confused over why Jongdae was suddenly staring at him as if _he_ had been keeping secrets when it was _his_ first time meeting this new guy, too. The man, in his classy black suit and tie, and with his friendly eyes, wide smile, and startlingly deep voice, later turned out to be his best friend's last resort to convince him to try the night.

 

“Zampano at your service, but you can call me _anything_ you want.”

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"What's this?" He holds up his phone to Kyungsoo, moments after the door opened and his roommate has stepped inside their new dormitory. "Look, look, what's this?"

 

"It's your phone?" Kyungsoo asks, eyes round and questioning.

 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes at the response and pulls his co-trainee slash object of affection further inside, waving his phone for the latter to see. "It's my camera roll, Do Kyungsoo. Can you see what's in my camera roll?"

 

Kyungsoo seems to realize what he means now, because the younger boy stumbles in his steps and grimaces.

 

"You thought you deleted them, didn't you?" Baekhyun teases, smiling like a fox as he makes exaggerated swipes on his phone's screen. "Now, why were you taking selcas on my phone, o dear baby Soo?"

 

"I wasn't taking selcas," Kyungsoo tries his hardest at a scowl, but the little blush on his cheeks and the twitching of those full lips only makes the sight of an embarrassed 'Dyo' so much cuter and entertaining.

 

"I didn't know how to exit," their maknae shortly admits with a grumble.

 

Baekhyun laughs at this, deep and a little breathy; self-described cute and obnoxious to everyone else. He runs out of laugh after a short while but not of smiles when he holds out his hand to his co-trainee.

 

"What."

 

"Give me your phone."

 

Kyungsoo squints at him, determining his intentions, before the younger boy gives in anyway. His roommate watches him unlock the phone and hold it up.

 

Baekhyun smiles with moons for eyes as he returns the slightly outdated mobile. "Ya, Dyodoleu, we now have couple screens! When are you going to ask me out?"

 

"Dyo! Just go be his bloody dream come true!" There's a sudden slam from the end of the hall, right where Jongdae's room is. "I'm so sick of hearing him flirt with you!"

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Dyo quit.

 

In his partner’s place, an actor came back. It was D.O. who came back. It was just D.O. who was closer to being a stranger to him than the partner he had known for years.

 

He wasn't ready for Kyungsoo leaving. Not at all. He felt abandoned and betrayed, and even more when he saw D.O.’s first appearance on the big screen; when he was the only one hiding his face in the darkness of the movie theatre because he wanted to cry. He was so mad at Kyungsoo for having deprived him a chance to say goodbye.

 

He didn't like getting hurt, so he decided he was going to forget Do Kyungsoo.

 

“Baekhyun.”

 

But when Kyungsoo came back, the first thing he did was give the man his everything. He gave everything he had because he was terrified of being abandoned again.

 

“Soo… Soo, _I missed you_.”

 

(Don't leave me.)

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

All he really needed was something to get his mind off things. He really _did_ just want to get his mind off things. Until one night, he found himself thrown on a bed with a fierce reminder of what a kiss was supposed to be like and the blunt tip of a hard cock sliding into him without it hurting.

 

Zampano just seemed to fit perfectly with him, _too perfectly_. His host, whose hair was matted to his own forehead, sweaty, and was _too_ close to him that he could smell cologne, mint, and the sex they really _shouldn't_ be having, destroyed the line he had been too slow to finish drawing by telling him his name. That man who burned his body with touches and their combined heat called himself Chanyeol.

 

Suddenly, Zampano wasn't _just_ a host to him anymore, because Zampano listened and turned into Chanyeol who would crush his heart; who easily became the guilt in his throat, the ache in his chest, and the bitter sweetness on his tongue.

 

He may have cried when he realized that this— _this_ , whatever this _thing_ connecting Chanyeol to him was called, probably— _definitely_ —meant that him trying to cling onto Kyungsoo, the huge part of him that couldn't get past being abandoned by someone whom he thought valued him as much as he valued them, had just been waiting to admit he already let go.

 

Baekhyun wanted to get his mind off things, not to remind himself that things may have long been over.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"A-ah, _god_ , Chan—" He gasps when Chanyeol bites on his neck.

 

It's a welcome distraction from the sharp turn that the thrusts have taken. He tilts his head, mouth open to moan as a warm tongue licks over the light wound to make it better. Chanyeol grabs one of his arms to throw around his own neck before ravishing his mouth again, teasing the seam of his pink lips and dancing with the tongue that eagerly waits for him.

 

Chanyeol kisses him; hard, gently; sweetly, hotly. Chanyeol kisses him with everything the man has, like they're never getting a chance like this again. It feels like everything that Chanyeol has been to him all this time, all at the same time.

 

Baekhyun pulls his host closer with a hand tangled in the latter's hair, pulls his lover closer with both arms laced tightly around Chanyeol's neck now, and he lets Chanyeol push against his mouth and open his lips for him. He holds back the moan, the whimpers, because this time should be about _Chanyeol_ and _not_ about him, and so he brings his hands up to caress his host's face and tilts his head to let the man have his way with him as he bites gently down Chanyeol's lower lip and makes the man in his arms groan.

 

His hands hurt. The bruises hurt. They hurt so much, but not as much as the fact that Chanyeol gives him so much more than he has asked, so much more than he really deserves; than what he feels he deserves.

 

Baekhyun opens his eyes and looks at the sweat thinly trickling down Chanyeol's temples and at the red staining Chanyeol's lips. He can feel his chest constrict and tears threaten to stain his own cheeks in contrast. Chanyeol mistakes him staring as telling his host, _his lover_ , to hurry, and smiles before placing kisses over the lids of his eyes and telling him not to cry.

 

(Chanyeol really must make a ton of money, talking the way he does.)

 

He pretends his heart doesn't swell at the gesture by hiding himself in the crook of Chanyeol's neck and distracting himself with the feeling of Chanyeol being inside him.

 

(Chanyeol might as well be another actor, pretending to love him like this.)

 

He lets himself cry a little more there, where Chanyeol can't see him, because Chanyeol is _so_ good. Chanyeol is _too good_ to him, and he really thinks that whoever it is that Chanyeol falls in love with— _really falls in love with—_ is going to be so lucky to have someone like Chanyeol. They're going to be _so_ lucky to have someone who makes staying at home and watching TV feel like a date, someone who randomly says what they appreciate about you even when you don't ask, and someone who tries to understand even though they really can't because they're not supposed to know everything.

 

Someday… _someday_ , someone is going to be so lucky to have Chanyeol. Someone is going to be even luckier to be called Chanyeol's. The luckiest person in the world is going to have the _real_ Chanyeol.

 

"Baekhyun... Baekhyun, _fuck_ , you feel _so good_ —" He shuts his eyes close at the fire in his chest and what feels like the charred trail of Chanyeol's hands—tracing, burning, consuming—and he clings tightly onto the man's back as they both steadily come closer to desperation. He shudders, the skin beneath the tips of his fingers both cold and scalding, somehow, as he releases tiny, choked gasps.

 

"You're doing great, babe," Chanyeol whispers in his ear, grunting lowly and distracting him with another kiss. “You're always so amazing.”

 

They part with a wet pop, and he drags his own lips down to the outline of his host's jaw. He writhes and sobs silently against Chanyeol's neck, beneath the kisses he plants there. He closes his eyes and the first of the weird dampness falls out of his eyes.

Baekhyun mouths, "I love you.”

 

This time, in this moment, he knows for sure he is in love with Chanyeol. He also knows to himself, despite also knowing he is utterly undeserving to speak of it in the first place, that it's the most honest _‘I love you’_ he has said in a very long while.

 

Chanyeol spares him the greater heartache by not hearing him… and Chanyeol will never get the chance to again, because he's not going to let himself— _he's not allowed_ —to say it again.

 

It's better this way, he supposes. Because he _really_ should stop falling in love with actors so he can stop second-guessing everything that they do and truly feel. Being so unsure everyday is too much to bear and even more when he remembers that Chanyeol might really just be in this for the things Chanyeol can take from him; his money and his body.

 

He can't offer his heart. There is no place for heart in something like this. What use will Chanyeol have for a filthy heart like his?

 

"Hey, don't cry," He hears Chanyeol say before he gets another kiss over the lids of his eyes, on his cheek, then on his lips. "You're supposed to enjoy this."

 

Baekhyun ignores the agonizing pain in his wrists, underneath the sleeves of the sweater that feel just as heavy as the foolish and filthy heart inside his chest, and smiles at the man who makes him feel like the beating in his ears suddenly makes sense.

 

"Do you... ah, want me to stop?"

 

"Don't you _dare_ ," He laughs at the way Chanyeol manages to always look like a puppy before he shakes his head.

 

A few more tears fall out of his eyes as he slides a hand up to his host's nape and guides Chanyeol back down to have their lips meet.

 

_I'm sorry._

 

Baekhyun is the one to kiss Chanyeol this time, and he kisses Chanyeol like he's prepared for it to be the last time.

 

_I love you._

 

(It is.)

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"Please answer me."

 

He needed to hear it.

 

All those times they made plans just to have them cancelled at the last minute. All those times he had to watch the interviews and hear Kyungsoo deny being in love or having felt it. All those times he believed he made love to Kyungsoo, only to be left alone the following morning without even a text or a goodbye.

 

He said it enough to cover both of their share, but he couldn't deny that it made him feel even more used and insignificant, every time... _every time_ Kyungsoo let him just give, and give, and _give_.

 

"Baekhyun—"

 

"Do you?"

 

Why is it always _so_ difficult for you to just say it?

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

He felt so stupid every time he woke up in the middle of the night.

 

He would always find himself in Chanyeol's arms, finding himself feeling so relieved to be staring at brown eyes and a smile. It was curiously easy for him to fall asleep in Chanyeol's bed; when he had Chanyeol beside him.

 

Sometimes, he would just hide under Chanyeol's chin and, very quietly, whisper insignificant things, because using his voice would turn them all into things that cannot ever be insignificant to either of them. ‘ _Are you going to leave if I say I don't want to do this anymore?’_

 

While Chanyeol let him stay there, safe in an embrace but questioning him without truly asking, he thought he could hear another worried heart. At times, it was a little funny. The rest of the times, it was just painful.

 

It was a foolish thought to entertain. ‘ _Hey Yeol, what would you do if I say 'I love you'?’_

 

Sometimes, he would let his finger dance from the tip of the man's nose, up to the small space between the latter's brows, while wondering if it would still be Chanyeol he would have reached out for if he had been blind. But no matter, he would kiss Chanyeol every time, while keeping the tremble in his fingers and the inappropriate thoughts that came with being in love with someone who wasn't his at bay. He would wait for Chanyeol to finally fall asleep before he would even think of turning his back to wipe his eyes.

 

He didn't mean to turn Chanyeol into... _this_ ; into less than an option, a little more than a distraction, when Chanyeol is so, _so_ much more than that. But, when he has already used the sweetest words he knows to describe someone who now leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, then what else does he have to describe someone like Chanyeol?

 

_Someday, one day—_

 

He doesn't deserve Chanyeol… and he never will for as long as the most that he lets himself voice out, with the amount of bravery that he has managed to recover, are apologies.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

It's just sex. He knows this time it's _just_ sex. They go through the motions, he pays for Kyungsoo's appeasement with pleasure, and he _still_ doesn't cry even if it hurts more than it should.

 

_"I missed you so much, Baekhyun."_

 

He wakes up late in the afternoon with hands and teeth traced on his hips and, although he limps towards the bathroom, he goes through the day like he normally does… like nothing ever happened.

 

_"You missed this, didn't you?"_

 

For the first time, he doesn't hesitate to make a call to Chanyeol.

 

_“You missed me too, didn't you?”_

 

It doesn't connect.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"I missed you," Chanyeol says. "Does that bother you?"

 

His heart twists. His eyes suddenly sting.

 

"It doesn't," He answers. "I missed you too."

 

Like always, he hides behind a small smile again while he convinces himself that Chanyeol missed him in a way that is different from the way he always misses Chanyeol. If anything, he would rather believe someone like Chanyeol only sees him as a mouth and a hand to use than believe they both mean the way they look at each other or the way he sometimes feel like they say _too little_ of what they actually want to say

 

Someday, he would either be brave enough to tell Chanyeol things he aren't allowed to say right now or he would let Chanyeol walk out of his life as easily as he let him in… for good.

 

(Someday, it will either be a confession or a goodbye.)

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"Kyungsoo, do you?"

 

He just needs to hear it. He wants to hear Kyungsoo say it, because how can he stay with someone who can't even say I love you when it's just the two of them?

 

_Tell me you still want to try and make this work._

 

But Kyungsoo only tugs on his arm again to force him off the floor. Kyungsoo tells him to go to sleep; that Kyungsoo is not in the mood for this, and exhales a deep sigh. Baekhyun lets it end with that and just avoids it, and most conflicts, altogether by letting himself be swept away.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Chanyeol asks him what he is to him.

 

Even though Chanyeol doesn't shout at him, he knows Chanyeol is still angry.

 

He dislikes how he wants to hope for something more when he looks at Chanyeol's face; that maybe Chanyeol is furious because Chanyeol really _does_ want him in all the different ways that he has wanted Chanyeol, too, and not simply because he has selfishly destroyed all the lines Chanyeol has drawn for himself. Looking at Chanyeol makes him want to hope, and he dislikes hope because guilt is quick to smother it when he remembers Kyungsoo's face.

 

Kyungsoo must already be so disappointed with him. Kyungsoo will be so much more disappointed now and, if the fact that he has only been forcing himself to believe in something that isn't there anymore isn't enough, now he's going to disappoint Chanyeol, too.

 

"That's... You're wrong, you're not—"

 

He thinks of the man he says and thinks he loves, and he reminds himself he's not allowed to say the truth.

 

Then he thinks of the man who makes him feel love as how he has always imagined and wanted it to be in the songs he sings, and he decides he does not want to lie.

 

(He hates himself.

 

He hates himself.

 

He hates himself.)

 

Instead of giving an answer, Baekhyun chooses to run away. The tight markings of ropes around his wrists hurt. They hurt so much.

 

But they will never hurt enough.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

He had been terrified when he discovered the door of the apartment unlocked. With the alarming guidance of a stray leather shoe, an open bedroom door, and a broken phone, he finds his host in the bathroom right under the dry shower head.

 

Whatever he feels, whatever he felt—the panic from having Suho going out of his way to contact Jongdae _just_ to contact him, the anger at his host's willingness to neglect himself, the sheer _worry_ that devoured him when he thought about someone five years younger than he was shouldering _so much_ alone—all of _that_ , all of it has suddenly been washed away, only leaving him with one of his biggest heartbreaks.

 

Chanyeol is pale, tired, and, true enough, _sick_. The sight of his strong host curled in a corner, trying to make himself look so small, has him immediately falling on his own knees. As he cradles his puppy, he desperately wants to cry. He wants _so much_ to cry, and he also wants to be angry.

 

Chanyeol doesn't deserve this. Chanyeol doesn't deserve to rest his head against cold, uncaring bathroom walls or cry himself to sleep like this. Chanyeol doesn't deserve to get hurt and be alone.

 

He sees through his host's flimsy lie but accepts it anyway to be the one to wrap his arms around Chanyeol's bigger frame.

 

"It's okay. It's just a shirt," He tells Chanyeol when his lover tries to resist. He only embraces Chanyeol just as tight in response, if not tighter, and even if it is utterly excruciating for him to do. “Just let me hug you.”

 

Chanyeol pulls him close. His host’s hands are...quivering, and cold, and tight around his waist, unlike the wetness he feels on his shirt. His own breath is shaky when he lets Chanyeol be the one to hide himself in his chest this time. After all, it’s only polite to pretend that you don't notice the tears when someone is trying to hide them from you.

 

"I'm sorry. If I were as fearless as you, I'd tell you better things," He gently caresses Chanyeol's nape and smoothes out his lover's hair as he offers his shoulder, ignoring the jolts of pain from his wrists. He feels like he wouldn't be able to ever rid himself of the suffocating lump in his throat, but then... "You're important, puppy. You're always, _always_ important.

 

He would willingly forget his own pain if it could ease even just a bit of Chanyeol's.

 

"...You don't have to say it," Chanyeol mutters, and he sees that Chanyeol's eyes are still red before they close.

 

"Just... stop leaving," He can smell the bitterness clinging onto the man whose voice is breaking. "Just stop leaving me. Don't leave me."

 

 _I don't want to leave you anymore, either,’_ Baekhyun quietly cries, waiting for the man in his arms to fall asleep, as he continues to soothingly rub his lover's back and softly sings the ballad he once found in Chanyeol's phone.

 

Chanyeol doesn't deserve to be alone, but Chanyeol deserves someone who wouldn't hesitate to give himself to him.

 

Chanyeol deserves more than someone like him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Well, everyone sees the same thing but interprets it differently.  
> 2\. D.O. used to work with Baekhyun, but then he left.  
> 3\. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo go _way_ back. It's an on-off relationship. Their communication has always been shit.  
>  4\. Again, nobody knows everything.  
> 5\. Baekhyun hasn't come home from Chanyeol's place yet. :D  
> 6\. Obviously, everyone's been holding back a lot. (How unfortunate.)


	6. Ennui

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyungsoo finally grants Baekhyun's oldest wish of a kiss, a date and a confession, and yet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Reminder:** Read the tags again.

 

> _[ They ask, people ask if I'm alright  
>  I break a little ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9VE8LkpE1Is) _

 

 

If anything, he's already used to waking up at noon; to being hugged by pillows and being greeted by the faint white noise of the heater as ‘ _Good morning_.’ Waking up alone easily becomes the least of the worries when he has had years to get used to _being_ alone. The thing about waking up alone, however, is that it's naturally the biggest reminder of having gone to sleep by himself.

 

It's ten in the morning when Byun Baekhyun stares at the ceiling that has kept him company longer than the man he calls his boyfriend has.

 

With aching wrists and aching half-lidded eyes, he releases another heavy breath. He doesn't bother to wipe the wetness that insists on staining his cheeks. Not anymore.

 

Three hours of sleep is good, he supposes. It's better than none. It's better than if he had continued to cry continuously over something stupid, like the fact that he just ran away from the guy who wants to be called his boyfriend and has done a rather great job at it over the past months.

 

It doesn’t even hurt that much anymore. His wrists, his head, his throat... or maybe they all hurt too much that he just doesn't care anymore. Maybe it doesn't matter whether they still hurt or not, not now when he knows how much he has been hurting Chanyeol all this time.

 

If anyone has the right to cry, whether because of the pain or whether things seem unfair, it's Chanyeol. It's Chanyeol and, if he has learned to love him over the years, then it'll also be Kyungsoo. It'll be Kyungsoo when his boyfriend finally finds out how much of a shitty person he is because Kyungsoo already knows how selfish he is.

 

Even if neither of them admits to it, the reason they're here in the first place is because he selfishly wanted to be a part of Kyungsoo's life while Kyungsoo just wanted out.

 

He shouldn't cry because he brought it upon himself. He can't help it, though. The tears just fucking start again regardless of whether he tries not to think of it— _of anything_ —because either way, no matter _what_ he does, he ends up remembering everything he doesn't want to.

 

Things haven't been healthy with Kyungsoo. Maybe he already admitted that it's to be expected when only one of them actually wanted a relationship in the first place, but what was so wrong with hoping and thinking he could love enough for two people? As long as Kyungsoo liked him enough, and whether it was less than or different from what he felt, he believed he could fill in the spaces that Kyungsoo purposely left blank.

 

Baekhyun shuts his eyes again and lets himself scream at the top of his lungs; until his throat feels worse than the clenching his chest makes.

 

> _"—a whore. I'm your whore, Baekhyun."_

 

He smothers the words with his pillow and yells some more. He yells at the absurdity of it all _—_ being in a relationship with someone who didn't love him first, being in love with someone he can't be in a relationship with, and being someone who is just so fucking scared that he's unwilling to do anything about any of it. He keeps screaming because he's angry, so, _so_ angry.

 

He's angry at Chanyeol. He's angry at Kyungsoo. But most of all, he’s angry at himself.

 

Fuck him for the busy line when he calls Kyungsoo; for the rings that now connect and tell him Chanyeol can see his name but chooses not to answer. Fuck him for having wasted his time crying over someone who hasn't hesitated to leave him before; _countless of times before_. Fuck him for having left _every time_ he wanted to stay with the man who wanted just as much for him to stay.

 

Fuck him. Fuck him fuck him _fuck him_. A fuck is _all_ he's good for anyway, isn't he?

 

He's just so tired. He's tired of thinking about someone who isn't his boyfriend and feeling guilty about it.

 

He stares at the ceiling again. His throat is now sore, again. When he remembers the face that Chanyeol would make between his legs, his throat becomes even tighter and it readily catches fire.

 

_Don't look at me like that._

 

He closes his eyes and doesn't think about Chanyeol staring at him like he's _the best thing_ that has happened to someone as wonderful as Park Chanyeol. He doesn't think about how he would sleep on top of the host's chest and convince himself that Chanyeol's heart doesn't beat faster with him. He doesn't think about Chanyeol. He doesn't _want_ to think about Chanyeol.

 

But it's Chanyeol in his dreams, regardless of whether he remains awake or falls asleep.

 

_Please don't look at me like that._

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

After almost eight hours of tossing and turning, stuck in the fine line between deeply asleep and barely awake, Baekhyun finally braves to leave the comfort of unreality.

 

He opens his eyes to the fast becoming night sky and the city nightscape coming alive. It's dark in the apartment, save from the city lights reflecting on the ceiling courtesy of the panoramic window. Every night he can just laze in bed and appreciate the beautiful view but, then again, what's the best view in the world for when there's no one else to appreciate it with?

 

With a miserable sigh, he rolls out of bed wearing yet another shirt that's too big for him.

 

It's Kyungsoo's. Even the loose black shorts is his boyfriend's. Whatever Kyungsoo owns, he sort of… also claims as his own. Really, he can claim everything that Do Kyungsoo owns except for, well,  Do Kyungsoo himself.

 

Baekhyun trudges out of the room in fluffy slippers, his _own_ fluffy slippers this time, while he rubs an eye and squints at the bright hallway lights. He doesn't pay the lights any mind and turns for the bathroom to wash his face which, he shortly discovers, has become weird and puffy, especially around the eyes.

 

Great. He looks like shit.

 

Right now, he wishes that his head would stop throbbing. He wishes headaches don’t always come to him whenever he cries so hard. Fuck crying. With a sigh, he fills the bathtub with water and leaves to find something to nibble on.

 

Living in a luxurious apartment is, well, generally great. Wait, what is he saying? _Of course_ , it's great. High-end houses mean everything is pleasing to the eye. Not to mention, there's _lots_ of room space. Since it's D.O.’s style, whichever sheets he buys don't ever seem out of place on the bed Kyungsoo picked, too.

 

Kyungsoo liked to keep things simple, just like the walk-in closet predominantly filled with black no matter how many brighter ensembles he has already managed to sneak in there or how organized and maintained Kyungsoo's unspoken 'territory' of the apartment remains. The apartment is really more Do Kyungsoo, minimalist with its white walls and black furniture, and just liberally covered with sprinkles of Byun Baekhyun's brighter colors to fill the space; just so the distance doesn't translate so much into their home, too.

 

Kyungsoo... Kyungsoo truly provides well. There's nothing else to ask for from someone like Do Kyungsoo, really. Baekhyun can afford his own whims. The only thing he has ever really asked and wished from his boyfriend is… well, _Kyungsoo_.

 

When spending time was still one of the few things that mattered so much to him, of course he wanted his boyfriend to be there for him. He learned to be less naïve and less idealistic thanks to Kyungsoo's realism but, generally speaking, whether it matters or not, isn't it natural to want your boyfriend to be there for you? For you to spend time together, too?

 

Sometimes, it even felt like it was Kyungsoo cheating on him with work. If he could be completely honest, he's the mistress in this relationship because Do Kyungsoo might as well be _married_ to work. But then again, what could Byun Baekhyun possibly pit against his boyfriend's dream in the first place, right?

 

Looking back now, he’s lucky that Kyungsoo comes back home and stays, no matter how painfully short the time that Kyungsoo's work gives them. He's even luckier if he gets Kyungsoo when he needs his boyfriend, not just in matters of money. In general, he's lucky that Kyungsoo still _does_ come home to him; that they've actually lasted so long like this, even with Kyungsoo leaving as soon as work demands it.

 

(How can he do anything about it, really, when Kyungsoo is almost never there to talk? When he would all but eat from his boyfriend's palm whenever Kyungsoo _is_ there?)

 

Baekhyun rubs his eyes again once he reaches the kitchen. God, everything that doesn't hurt just keeps throbbing.

 

His stomach is growling in response to the delectable waft of meat coming from a covered bowl atop the kitchen counter. He lifts the cover and discovers braised beef. It's only one of Kyungsoo's mouth-watering dishes. He's… pretty sure that wasn't there before.

 

If it had been there last night or this morning, it wouldn't be as warm, which... it is. It's still undeniably warm when he pokes it, and... _there_. It's there.

 

 _It_ —Baekhyun gulps— _it exists._

 

"Took you a while," A voice suddenly says from behind him, making him almost jump out of his skin until a pair of lips meets his nape and his heart races for entirely different reasons.

 

"Soo," Baekhyun exhales, keeping his voice even through the shudder his body makes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat before it can grow. "You're—a-ah, home...?"

 

"You're not supposed to be here yet, are you?" Kyungsoo replies.

 

"I...I came home early," Baekhyun lies, leaning forward and resting his elbows atop the counter when his boyfriend embraces his lower middle and starts to place more kisses on the side of his neck, the easiest of the weak spots to draw out his little noises.

 

"So did I," Kyungsoo makes a noncommittal hum before the singer feels him grazing teeth over skin, threatening to leave a mark.

 

"I couldn't wait to see you," the actor says, voice silky and warm.

 

Baekhyun breathes sharply in anticipation of the pain; of teeth on his skin, because as much as Kyungsoo's voice is the richest of chocolate, Kyungsoo keeps his talons as sharp. They cut so deep and thin that he never really realizes they hurt until he starts to wish it's over or until he has to use the polite excuses he has prepared beforehand for the people who ask but don't know what exactly to ask. He never has the heart to tell them he might be one of those freaks who trade pain for pleasure.

 

(He and Kyungsoo, they make a terrific pair, don't they...?)

 

His body shivers, expecting to turn into a canvas, but there's...nothing.

 

Kyungsoo doesn't bite him and turn his skin purple or make him moan like a bitch in heat or beg to be fucked harder on the kitchen floor either. It's just hot breath and goosebumps crawling over where he hasn't even been touched yet. His boyfriend simply kisses him, chastely and gently, before pulling away… as if nothing happened.

 

Baekhyun swallows. He listens to the faintest sound of steps as Kyungsoo walk towards the fridge to take out the milk while he remains there, taking deep and silent breaths until his heart steadies. He keeps his gaze fixated on the beef bowl that Kyungsoo cooked for him.

 

"Don't let it get cold," Kyungsoo says, startling him for a second time. "Eating take-out every day is bad for your health."

 

Baekhyun waits until he's sure that his hands are steady, too, before he takes the bowl with him to the table and sits across his boyfriend.

 

He waits for the latter to say something because even though it weirdly relieves him that Kyungsoo didn't decide to bend him over and isn't asking where he has been, he can't deny that it also makes him anxious. It's more than enough for his gut to twist and flip as he steals glances at his stoic actor. He can take this anxiety and he can take the flipping his stomach makes in his boyfriend's presence, but he can do little about the urge to throw up when he thinks about what can possibly be inside Kyungsoo's head.

 

It... it doesn't make sense. It _does_ , but at the same time, it _just_ doesn't. He is aware he looks like _shit_ right now, yet his boyfriend isn't saying anything about it; hasn't pointed out the fact yet. Kyungsoo, his ever so meticulous Kyungsoo, cannot possibly miss a detail like that.

 

Why? _Why_ isn't Kyungsoo saying anything? His nerves refuse to be calmed, but he knows better than to try and calm himself by asking the man observing him.

 

"Is it bad?" Kyungsoo looks at him questioningly, gesturing at the food in front of him and making both his chest and throat clench.

 

"N-No, it's amazing. I—" Baekhyun coughs and chokes.

 

His boyfriend readily extends his own glass of milk for him to drink, even standing to walk over to him and rub his back until he normally breathes again.

 

"How many times do I have to tell you to swallow before you talk?" Kyungsoo reprimands, not harshly, yet it makes him feel like Kyungsoo had just yelled at him.

 

Not that Kyungsoo often does. Or did. He just—he just can't suddenly remember the last time he felt like Kyungsoo did something small and nice for him. He can't even remember the last time Kyungsoo was there for him.

 

"I-I'm okay."

 

All this distance and not being together just taught him how to manage things on his own, you know?

 

"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere right now."

 

That would've made him so happy if he had heard it last year. Or a few months ago. It would’ve made him happy before.

 

Now, though? Now it just makes him cry.

 

"I missed your cooking," Baekhyun blurts out when he really means that Kyungsoo's hand is too warm on his back because it's been _such_ a long time since it's been there; because he isn't _ready_ to be back with Kyungsoo just yet; because he isn't ready to beat himself up over the next time that Kyungsoo leaves or think about how he's going to say that he might—

 

That he doesn't want to wait anymore.

 

He just spent all of the daylight crying over someone else— _over Chanyeol_ —and he—he can't _look_ at Kyungsoo right now. He isn't _ready_ to look at Kyungsoo right now.

 

"I missed cooking for you. I missed watching you enjoy it. I missed eating with you, Hyun," His boyfriend replies, using that tone— _warm and gentle_ —that always, _always_ got him stuck. "I missed you."

 

When Kyungsoo doesn’t return to his own seat and, instead, wraps arms around him, it makes Baekhyun just want to cave.

 

He wants to cry about everything. He just wants Kyungsoo to know everything and be angry _now_. He knows he's just been delaying the inevitable, but at the same time he's—he isn't ready for when Kyungsoo really leaves.

 

To not have Kyungsoo at all in his life when it has revolved around Do Kyungsoo for so long, is... is he ready for that?

 

"When did you come back?" Baekhyun croaks with his tender throat, head bowed and taking full advantage of having his face away from his boyfriend's gaze by pretending to wait for his bowl to cool a little more.

 

"Last night."

 

He swallows at the abrupt weight dropping down the pit of his stomach. Nothing else seems to matter right now, all he wants to do is hide. He just wants to be alone right now.

 

"Soo, I—" He begins to say but, before he can string words together, his boyfriend tilts his head back, pushes his chair to silence him with a kiss.

 

He tries not to be scared but, somehow, he always is with Kyungsoo. Constantly worrying about whether every time—whether this time—is when Kyungsoo finally leaves and never comes back, has taught him to keep quiet so it doesn't happen because of him. He has been scared of running out of ways to convince Kyungsoo to hurt him and leave evidence of having been with him, but now... now he fears how Kyungsoo knows how to leave him breathless without putting hands on him.

 

(Yet.)

 

But Chanyeol leaves him breathless, too. And never hurts him. He doesn't have to drive Chanyeol into a corner so Chanyeol would touch him.

 

(He doesn’t have to get hurt first before he can be loved.)

 

But Chanyeol isn't his boyfriend. And Chanyeol isn't—cannot _ever_ be—Kyungsoo.

 

He wants to cry.

 

"You should rest more for tonight," Kyungsoo mutters against his lips, nibbling instead of biting to turn them red before simply resting his own chin comfortably atop his shoulder.

 

Baekhyun feels like he had just swallowed a knife when he hears Kyungsoo repeat, "I missed you."

 

And he wishes it were real, that he could pull it out and stab himself when his heart stammers, because Kyungsoo kisses his forehead for the first time just as his own mouth instinctively opens up to answer, “I missed you, too, Soo.”

 

It's not a lie. But it's not entirely the truth.

 

(Because the way he misses Kyungsoo is different from the way he's already missing Chanyeol.)

 

Regardless, the dread in his stomach blooms into a garden. It hurts when he knows he wants to keep the one Chanyeol planted inside his chest. It hurts because he knows that, sooner than later, he'll have to set one of the two gardens on fire because he cannot have both.

 

(What if he just sets himself on fire?)

 

He stays up to watch _The Thieves_ over and over again, just to hear the name Zampano without being the one to say it.

 

At some point, he yearns for sleep and gets tired of Zampano, who could've been with Yenicall before things got too complicated. Zampano wouldn't have had to give up so much for her if he had only pursued her more seriously instead of waiting for her to come to him. The thought of Yenicall only realizing what Zampano could be to her after she has lost him, starts to hurt more and more.

 

Baekhyun feels both better and worse because, when he closes his eyes this time, his lips are red and sore from knowing Kyungsoo's, while his heart is hurting for remembering Chanyeol's.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

There was a time when Kyungsoo was home more often than he wasn't; when Baekhyun fussed over almost every little thing instead of accidentally penning ballads he would silently swear to never sing.

 

Before, a long, long time ago, Baekhyun would fluff their pillows and toss them all into a mess on his side of the bed so Kyungsoo would have to scoot closer to him when it was time to sleep. He returned things back to where they belonged so that Kyungsoo would spend less time walking around the apartment to search for something and spend more time trying to politely tell him to tone down the clinging and the hugging. He also secretly put Kyungsoo's book, hoping it was the right one, on top of the coffee table beside his beloved sofa so that Kyungsoo would read from one end while he sat at the other.

 

Although the set-up had been more than fine for him, letting that much distance sit between them to keep Kyungsoo comfortable with him, of course, there had also been times that he wanted more than a pillow in his arms. Those were the times he would try to cross the border to tread on the path to Kyungsoo's arms. Kyungsoo used to let him. His boyfriend would click his own tongue and tell him to stop fidgeting in Hallyu star Do ‘D.O.’ Kyungsoo’s elusive lap so his boyfriend could concentrate on whatever it was that Kyungsoo was doing. He liked it.

 

Baekhyun loved to play. More than that, he liked knowing that Kyungsoo found him distracting. He was an inappropriately lovable nuisance, but he was Kyungsoo's nuisance. Besides, Kyungsoo being distracted meant that Kyungsoo actually paid attention to him.

 

He loved it when he used to tease Kyungsoo even more by squirming further up the latter's lap. He liked it best when Kyungsoo would grumble at being uncomfortable instead of getting angry. It made him feel like Dyo never left and that nothing really changed. Kyungsoo has always been stingy with affection, and Baekhyun thought that wasn't ever going to be a problem because, surely, Kyungsoo would one day be brave enough to say, _‘I love you too.’_

 

But that's the thing. He had startled himself when Kyungsoo finally snapped at him after he pushed, and pushed, and unwittingly left no space for Kyungsoo to miss him, not even for Kyungsoo to breathe. Kyungsoo worshipped space and he had been the idiot who wanted to _be_ Kyungsoo's space. Now, he's more careful with setting Kyungsoo off, but every time he second-guesses, it's as good as reminding himself that even he has to call Kyungsoo 'D.O.' outside of their apartment and that nothing ever stays the same.

 

Kyungsoo had told him to stop. He had only listened when Kyungsoo has finally had enough, so Kyungsoo avoiding people and eventually quitting could've been his fault. Kyungsoo coming back and throwing him at the back of a car to fuck him until his legs turned numb and it hurt to breathe was most likely his fault. It's what he wanted, after all, to be _something special_ to Do Kyungsoo. So, Kyungsoo learning to hurt him just so he doesn't get the chance to smother Kyungsoo with what he calls love is his fault, isn't it?

 

Whose fault is it that they both learned that pain is where they are sure to meet halfway?

 

(Mine…?)

 

"Baekhyun."

 

> _"You love_ _me,_ _don't you? You're willing to do anything for me, aren't you?"_

 

When he gets them, the Kyungsoo in his nightmares is Dyo.

 

Dyo who had been, and will always be, three years younger than him and smiles brightly with the heart Kyungsoo rarely shows everyone else. Dyo, whom he knows is fake because even when Kyungsoo is happy, Kyungsoo doesn't speak that much. He doesn't really mind being pulled or being yanked by his hair or even being forced to his knees because he knows it _isn't_ real and that Kyungsoo wouldn't ever hurt him without provocation, but he wakes up anyway because it doesn't get any less shocking.

 

It doesn't get any less painful to look at the face of the person he once thought of building a future with and see a tremendous amount of anger and disappointment instead of love.

 

"Hey, Hyun."

 

The digital clock flashes three thirty in the morning when Baekhyun opens his eyes and finds himself still in the middle of his sofa. The living room is dark. The TV already switched itself off.

 

There's a warm blanket draped over him. It wasn't there when he fell asleep. He blinks and rubs his eyes with a cold, shaky hand, trying to pass off having cried in his sleep as... anything else, because he quickly realizes that Kyungsoo is there, crouching in front of him.

 

He's not going to give Kyungsoo a reason to worry about him.

 

"Hi," Baekhyun greets with a rasp and a smile.

 

"Hello," Kyungsoo doesn't return the smile, although the actor also doesn't frown.

 

The heart inside Baekhyun's chest is marching. He's not so sure if it's because of the bad dream he doesn't even remember anymore or because his boyfriend most likely witnessed him crying in his sleep. God, he surely hopes it's anything else but the latter. Ah…

 

"Soo, it's only three in the morning. Why are you already up?"

 

"You weren't there," Kyungsoo answers.

 

Baekhyun furrows his brows a little at that, confused and... happy, he guesses. Still, he finds that strange. Maybe even a little scary, but in a different way.

 

When his boyfriend raises a hand, he flinches by reflex, but the hand only goes to brush his dampened fringe away from his eyes before it rests on his knee. Then he wishes habits weren't so hard to break and that conditioning wasn't a thing when he receives the lightest kiss and feels himself shying away because he expected to receive something else.

 

"Let's go to bed, Hyun," Kyungsoo says next, and it makes Baekhyun question whether he really woke up.

 

This might just be another dream that will slowly spiral down into another nightmare. But, when his actor picks him up and carries him and the warmth of strong arms becomes undeniable, Baekhyun thinks that— _this_... this isn't so bad.

 

"Put me down. I can walk," He mutters. When the other man only ignores him, he adds, "I'm heavy."

 

"You're not as heavy as you think, Hyun," Kyungsoo just replies.

 

 _'I know I'm not as light as you imply,’_ Baekhyun considers saying, but Kyungsoo really might put him down and never pick him up again if he says anything else.

 

Besides, being warm isn't so bad. Being embraced and being carried like this after such a long time isn't so bad. Who's to say he's getting another chance at this?

 

He misses this. He misses Kyungsoo.

 

Baekhyun just wishes, after they reach their room and he has his back against his boyfriend's chest while he waits for the sun to rise, that it hadn't taken Kyungsoo this long to hold him again.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

You know what's weird and sad at the same time? It's realizing you actually feel uncomfortable waking up beside someone who's definitely more than a stranger to you—waking up to a man _so_ special that you call him your _boyfriend_ —because you've already become so used to waking up alone.

 

The sun is up and bright when Baekhyun blinks his eyes at the absent knot between his boyfriend's brows.

 

He contemplates about whether to shift closer to Kyungsoo or slip out of bed to officially start the day. Does he kiss Kyungsoo good morning like he used to? Or does he play it safe by letting Kyungsoo sleep some more? Kyungsoo rarely gets to sleep properly nowadays, having to travel between countries so often to meet schedules.

 

He decides to simply stare at the actor's serene expression a little while longer. He compares it to the many engraved in his memory and places a butterfly's kiss on the latter's forehead before he finally gets up. Baekhyun quietly slips out of bed and takes his phone with him before he leaves the room.

 

Kyungsoo opens his eyes, then, having been unable to sleep ever since having seen the wreck that was his boyfriend yesterday.

 

He didn't ask. He doesn't even really have to ask why anymore. What else for when he knows it's either he or some other man waiting and wanting to have what's his? So, instead of dwelling on it and upsetting himself with the thought of a _host_ touching what he owns, the actor just turns his back on the closed door and shuts his eyes again. He's not going to think about that.

 

Kyungsoo doesn't want Baekhyun to cry anymore, but he still hopes that Zampano never contacts Baekhyun again.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

To say that it makes Baekhyun uneasy to have his back pressed flat against the sofa with another man on top of him is an _understatement_ for the confusion he experiences after Kyungsoo finally gets out of bed.

 

"Do you have anywhere else to be today?"

 

"N-No," Baekhyun squeaks the moment Kyungsoo plucks the remote from his hands and pushes the pillow away from his face before pushing him down.

 

Before Baekhyun can ask what he has done this time, the younger man assaults his mouth and takes advantage of his parted lips to slip a tongue inside, tilting his chin up to make him surrender before he can even truly fight. He moans into his boyfriend's mouth, hooking an arm around Kyungsoo's neck to pull the latter down and kiss back just as fiercely, while a hand slithers down between his legs and slips beneath the band of shorts and boxers to take hold of his flaccid cock.

 

Baekhyun grunts at the first rough jerk that sends a shiver down his thighs, and he lets out an unsatisfied groan when Kyungsoo abruptly breaks the kiss and pulls away, taking with him the taste of chocolates and rum that Baekhyun makes sure is stocked for him. Once the hindrances are almost torn off, Baekhyun is just as quickly tipping his head back on the armrest and muffling moan after risqué moan with a hand over his own mouth. Kyungsoo's palm is scalding and tight around his cock, the strokes fast and hard and just _so characteristically aggressive_ that he cannot _ever_ mistake it for another man's touch.

 

Kyungsoo doesn't give him a chance to let anything else sink in; just shoves pleasure onto him by lowering lips to graze over his neck while letting heat flood and churn in the pits of his stomach. He can feel the coils tighten— _tighter_ and _tighter_ —that he cries and releases choked gasps. _W-what the fuck is this about?_

 

"Wait, K-Kyu— _oh fuck_ —" Baekhyun's voice rises, higher and higher. The pre-cum relieves the burn, but it still isn't _enough_ , so he yanks Kyungsoo from his neck to kiss him again. He claws for his boyfriend to give him reprieve because he's desperate for something, for _anything_ , to smother even just a bit more of the pain.

 

Kyungsoo humors him and nips at his pink lips, prying them open and offering the taste of alcohol for the strawberries on his tongue before flicking the wet head of the singer's cock and digging a nail in its slit and _squeezing_.

 

Baekhyun s _creams_ — from the pain, from the _pleasure_ —from the conflict both of those put together into something he can't describe and yet is anything but foreign; both highs from two different ends, and he releases a broken sob at being overwhelmed by them so suddenly, panting and catching his breath as he looks down on himself and sees the mess—his cum all over his groin, dripping from his still-sensitive cock and all over his boyfriend's hand still stroking him.

 

He heaves, staring at Kyungsoo's dark eyes and then heading down to the actor's plump lips and at the tip of a tongue. In his daze, his eyes flutter close as he lets the man close the gap and lets himself be kissed, eventually remembering to question the sudden intimacy, before he lets his boyfriend drag him closer to spread his thighs. Although he doesn't save one leg from dangling off the edge while the other wraps around Kyungsoo's waist, he wills himself to ask, "Wait—Soo, what is this?"

 

"My good morning," The actor answers, taking one of Baekhyun’s arms with a clean hand, raising it to his own lips and placing a kiss on the inside of Baekhyun's wrist. Both their gazes drop to the rope burns that appear less... angry now, before he hears the man speak again, "And if you'd let me, I'm sorry."

 

 _‘For what? Which sorry do you mean right now?”_ Baekhyun immediately thinks, tightly pursing his lips when Kyungsoo tugs everything off and leaves him bare, before going to reassure him with a peck on his cheek.

 

"I promise not to hurt you," Kyungsoo says, with that voice that he just _knows_ Baekhyun adores to hear. "Let me have you, Hyun."

 

The guilty knot in Baekhyun decides it's just about the right time to remind him that it still exists; that he has heard this before. He has already heard this once before.

 

"Do you mean it?" Baekhyun asks nervously, stopping the other man from going lower down his body. "You're—you’re not going to hurt me?"

 

Kyungsoo stares at him with an unreadable expression.

 

For a long moment, Baekhyun considers his options—to give in or try to run. He can give in while the mood is good then he can run when it turns sour. He can just run now, but he also wants to stay and see whether Kyungsoo means it.

 

Baekhyun recoils when his boyfriend stands without answering, thinking the man would go and leave him there when the latter stalked out of the living room. He crawls to his knees, a small figure in a sizable sofa prepared to feel bad, until Kyungsoo finally returns and throws his own shirt off his shoulders to let it join Baekhyun's forgotten pile and throws a fresh one towards the latter.

 

"What is this...?” Baekhyun questions. “What are you doing?"

 

Kyungsoo crouches in front of Baekhyun again, with elbows resting on his knees when the man pecks his lips.

 

"You have sharp nails," the actor comments before cupping his face. "And you love to bite."

 

"Soo, I... I don't understand..." Baekhyun mutters, brows knit together because he's terribly confused by Kyungsoo's actions.

 

"If you want to hurt me, I'll let you."

 

"And w—why would I hurt you?" Baekhyun sharply replies, fervently shaking his head.

 

"Because I've hurt you. All this time, all I've done is hurt you when I'm supposed to be telling you how much I miss you when I'm away from you," Kyungsoo responds and holds both of his wrists so he doesn't—can't—run away. "So I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Baek."

 

Baekhyun's voice cracks when he tries to laugh; to shake this whole thing off; to push this stranger away and search for his real boyfriend—for Kyungsoo. The man in front of him just stares at him, patiently waiting, until he gives a reply. But he can’t think of anything else aside from, "Who are you?"

 

Do Kyungsoo doesn't like people getting into his space; dislikes getting into others' even more because _Kyungsoo_ doesn't touch people unless he has to. Do Kyungsoo does not carry Byun Baekhyun to bed. Do Kyungsoo doesn't kiss Byun Baekhyun out of the blue, and definitely not this often or this carefully. Kyungsoo—

 

Do Kyungsoo isn't careful with Byun Baekhyun at all and never… _never_ intentionally says, ' _I miss you.'_

 

"This is not funny, Soo."

 

Kyungsoo isn't supposed to make him nervous like this. Kyungsoo isn't supposed to be getting his hopes up like this. Kyungsoo isn't like this.

 

"No, Baekhyun, listen to me—"

 

Baekhyun feels the urgent need to flee because he's used to pain. He’s used to waking up alone, to feeling _terrible_ , but not _this_. He doesn't _know_ how to react to this; to Kyungsoo tending to him and asking permission instead of giving the silent treatment and taking what he wants because they both _know_ he can.

 

"Stop this, I don't—" Baekhyun half pleads, half screams. ‘ _Stop making me question myself.’_

 

Kyungsoo holds the sides of his love— _his love's—_ face again when the latter tries to shove him away. He kisses the man he comes home to when he could just very well just stay in another country for good when that same man starts crying for him to, ‘ _No, you shut the hell up._ _Just go ahead and leave again.’_ He tilts his head so that the tips of their noses don't suffocate Baekhyun. He presses instead of crushing.

 

"I'm not going to hurt you anymore, Baek. I mean it this time. Trust me," Kyungsoo says, own voice unsteady as he punctuates every word with another kiss.

 

Then another—

 

And another—

 

Until the fight ebbs from his boyfriend's hands and Baekhyun's lips are red again.

 

Until Baekhyun is taking gasps and trembling in his hands.

 

Until he knows Baekhyun is only looking at _him_ , seeing _only_ him with those eyes, and not… not _thinking_ about another man in a fucking burgundy suit.

 

Not that club. Not that host.  _Not another man._

 

"Trust me again, Baekhyun," Kyungsoo resigns and doesn't dare to let himself be angry; doesn't dare to cry or yell or inch closer again until it's Baekhyun who shuts his eyes close and bridges the gap between them so neither of them talks anymore.

 

Them put together tastes like rum and strawberries. It's bitter and sweet at the same time. It's what the two of them cannot—hasn’t ever been at the same time.

 

It’s disgusting.

 

Volatile.

 

Intoxicating.

 

Baekhyun knows it's a combination he shouldn't swallow. Anything that feels like it's burning in his throat isn't meant to be swallowed, but he can't begin to say _‘What if I don't want this anymore or There's—there's something you should know.’_ He can't  _think_ straight when Kyungsoo has been looking like the man would set both of them on fire or when Baekhyun suddenly feels a tiny part of himself waking and exploding because it wants to hope that Dyo remembered and came back for it.

 

Whatever Kyungsoo wants from him, it works, because for the slightest moment, Baekhyun asks himself again—

 

What if…

 

What if this can still work?

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

It feels really... strange, to look at the reflection of his own neck and see only skin. Smooth, and fair, and unblemished. Baekhyun could hardly remember the last time he stood in front of a mirror without taking a small makeup kit with him.

 

It feels even stranger to look at his reflection and discover that he expects someone with large ears and a wide smile to be there, right beside his. For some reason, he glances behind him just in case Chanyeol miraculously appears to cuddle his back after mumbling a creative excuse. He comes face to face with Kim Jongdae instead, whom he surprises with the sudden turn and shoots him a look of suspicion in return.

 

"Okay, so, I'm not going to ask who you were thinking of just now but I _will_ say that your bedroom eyes were pretty effective. I see you've been practicing," His colleague comments, making an exaggerated wink and enjoying the grimace that it naturally elicits.

 

"I wasn't making bedroom eyes. Especially not at _you_ ," Baekhyun retorts and scrunches his nose in mock disgust.

 

"I kid, I kid. I would have fled to the washroom upstairs if you were," Jongdae laughs before situating himself inside one of the cubicles to do his own thing. "Ah, who would've thought I'd actually miss you, though? I had to substitute for you and teach your tone-deaf kids. It was no big deal, but do feel free to thank the goodness of my heart with chicken and beer."

 

Baekhyun scoffs at his best friend before he stares at his reflection again. Nothing out of the ordinary. He can use a bit more liner in the corners of his eyes, but what's the point when there's nothing to distract other people's eyes from?

 

Instead, he makes use of idle time by raising a finger to trace his neck, up to his jaw, where he commonly would meticulously apply concealer before even thinking of going anywhere. Then, he looks at his nose and gives the real thing a light pinch—just like what he what he used to do to Chanyeol's. To his puppy.

 

Ah... even this makes a stab to his chest.

 

"Jongdae?"

 

"Hm?"

 

He looks down at his wrists that are more yellow than purple now. The marks are barely noticeable now. Already, but at the same time, too late.

 

Baekhyun knows he's going to have to say it; how much of a little shit he has been. He’s going to have to say that he hadn't been happy because getting hurt doesn't make anyone happy; that he had been cheating even though cheating hadn't been his intention in the first place. He'll have to tell Kyungsoo, and he expects— _knows_ —that Kyungsoo will be furious with him.

 

Kyungsoo will be disappointed and angry, more than he's ever seen the actor been, and he'll most likely remember it for a long time. They both will. But not now.

 

It doesn't have to happen _now_. He's not going to say it now. He doesn't want—doesn't know _how_ he would possibly talk about it when—when Kyungsoo is finally being what he wanted Kyungsoo to be.

 

(But if not now, or soon, then when?)

 

"What is it?" Jongdae raises a brow at him once the vocal coach emerges from the cubicle and proceeds to wash hands beside him. "Uh, what are you doing?"

 

"What seasoning do you want on that chicken?" Baekhyun asks, but, of course, Jongdae sees right through it and wipes his own hands clean before the latter places a hand on his shoulder.

 

"Chicken. Right," the mandarin coach says wryly. "Frankly, it's great to have you back, but maybe you can use another week."

 

Then something seems to click in his best friend’s head, because his chin is suddenly grabbed and being tilted left to right; up down.

 

"I'm okay," Baekhyun slaps the hand away, glancing at the mirror one last time to straighten himself before leaving.

 

Jongdae chases after him with a hurried pace, boisterously laughing at a non-existent joke for the onlookers before hooking an arm around his shoulders and dragging the latter to the nearest empty recording studio. Baekhyun scowls, never having been an advocate of rag-dolling people, but doesn't attempt to shove his best friend from where the latter is leaning against the exit.

 

"You're being defensive. Something must have happened," Jongdae starts with a cross of his own arms.

 

"A lot happens every day, Jongdae."

 

"Alright, for starters, you can tell me about that call last week."

 

"I'd hire a personal assistant to keep track if I were you."

 

"Ah, bedroom eyes and now the verbal foreplay," Jongdae clicks his tongue. "Sorry to break it to you, Baekhyun, but I’m not your boyfriend. No need to play games with me."

 

"What the hell," Baekhyun immediately makes a small indignant noise. "Will you stop talking like that?"

 

"Great! I'm making you uncomfortable. You're making me uncomfortable by not saying it," Jongdae replies. "I know there's something, Baek. Suho just isn't someone who asks for favors and, contrary to what you may believe, I actually hate having to corner you like this so _please_ , do me a favor and at least look me in the eye and tell me I don't have to worry about my best friend."

 

Baekhyun sighs before he ultimately obeys, "You don't have to worry about me."

 

Jongdae simply stares right back, unconvinced. Jongdae always is, because Jongdae is the only one that _knows_ and is the type to try to do something about the things he knows. Jongdae doesn't know everything, but he has been there since the start and he has always stuck around just in case the end comes.

 

It hurts to admit, but even his own best friend has always wanted things to end.

 

"Is this about Kyungsoo?"

 

Is it...? Is it about Kyungsoo?

 

It involves Kyungsoo, yes, but it isn't _just_ about Kyungsoo. It's also Baekhyun, and Chanyeol, and all the complications that come with being called _someone's_ while having someone _else_. It's about what could not be happening right now if only he and Chanyeol never met, but he's not going to say it because he doesn't want Jongdae to know about this just yet while he can still try to help himself.

 

He doesn't want Jongdae to think it's his fault for bringing him into Dream rather than his own for coming back.

 

"No," Baekhyun finally answers.

 

"Suho...?"

 

"No!" He denies again, half-sure that the guy is just toying with him now. “How did you even—”

 

"Alright. Fine, you brat," Jongdae sniggers, making a swipe at the other man's throat and nodding when no concealer comes off. "Since Kyungsoo's Mercedes is in the reserved parking, and I see you're legitimately short of a monster hickey, I'm going to assume things are finally sailing smoothly."

 

“Wait!” Baekhyun grabs the coach's arm before the latter can step out of the studio. "What? What did you just say?"

 

"Uh, that I'm assuming that your boyfriend finally remembered to love you right?"

 

"No, no, the... other thing."

 

"Baek, I don't think talking about love bites at wor—"

 

"For fuck's sake Kim Jongdae," the singer grumbles and yanks his best friend back inside, hissing, "Kyungsoo's car! The Mercedes! You said it's here?"

 

"Y-yeah, I went to get something from mine and I saw him there," Jongdae answers. "Oh. So you didn't know?"

 

"I didn't—I don't—" Baekhyun blurts, jumping from one assumption to another. "Why would he come here? Was he—"

 

"Ya, Byun Baekhyun, calm down a sec, okay?" His best friend grabs hold of his face and manually makes him nod. "Yes, your boyfriend is here. No, he didn't look like he wanted to murder anyone. Yes, I know he looks like a murderer either way, don’t you even try to deny it, but it seemed to me like he really just came to pick you up."

 

"But he doesn't ever—” Baekhyun bunches his brows and tries to liberate himself from the man's grasp. “Why would he? _Kyungsoo_?"

 

Kyungsoo rarely picked him up. Disregarding being unavailable and avoiding getting involved in each other's work, why would Kyungsoo drive for him when he can drive himself around in his own car? If Kyungsoo were here, then why hasn't Kyungsoo texted him yet?

 

"Wow. That look you're giving me. You think I'm lying."

 

Baekhyun maintains a look of suspicion and mutters, "It wouldn't be the first time, Dae."

 

The other man rolls his eyes. "Don’t you know what today is?"

 

"...Monday?"

 

"Bzzt."

 

"I came back to work..?"

 

"Bzzt."

 

"Just tell me—"

 

"For the love of god, Byun," Jongdae just sighs. "It's your—"

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"You really had no idea?"

 

Baekhyun thinks he can count with his fingers how many times he has heard amusement mix into his boyfriend's voice before.

 

"It... slipped my mind," He replies, glancing at the open car door over his boyfriend's shoulder and opening his mouth to welcome another deep and languid kiss.

 

He moans a little, much tamer than usual, but audible enough to be more than encouraging as Kyungsoo folds his legs further up, pushing him further up the plush seats making up the cramped space that is the back of the Mercedes and making him cross his legs behind the actor's waist. He moans some more at his boyfriend sinking down to grind their hips together, pressing and rubbing against his groin, and he closes his eyes again every time his hips rolls on their own accord, every time he isn't quick enough to muffle a tiny and slutty noise. As much as being dry humped is embarrassingly pleasurable, his breath still hitches when Kyungsoo leaves his lips to settle on the side of his neck, fanning hot breath over sensitive skin, and something in his chest still gets tight when the wet mouth goes even lower to flick and suck on one of his pink, hardened nipples.

 

"Soo, close the door," Baekhyun squirms as he throws another worried glance at the tinted window, right above his head.

 

He unwittingly continues to sigh softly at the attention he's getting, feeling himself getting dizzy from the all the blood rushing to his cheeks and down. It's cool inside Kyungsoo's car but his body feels hot, _so_ hot despite his dress shirt being unbuttoned all the way down to expose his torso; free from marks but not of wet trails left by the brush of lips.

 

"Soo, please," He gasps and mews at his boyfriend playing with his rosy nubs and making him arch his back. "What if—w-what if someone—"

 

They _really_ shouldn't be doing this here.

 

"Relax. No one's going to see," Kyungsoo reassures him before slanting lips against his own again.

 

Baekhyun pushes against the chest on top of him to break the kiss, panting at the sudden abundance of air and absence of another pair of lips. With a hand to catch the one sliding down between his legs and another to cover his mouth, he gasps to catch his breath and stops his boyfriend from claiming his mouth again.

 

"Not here," He says with a shake in his voice when he finds himself looking into Kyungsoo's dark eyes. "I-I don't feel comfortable doing it here."

 

 _‘Shut up, just shut up,’_ he inwardly admonishes, realizing what he's doing.

 

"Are you telling me to drive somewhere else or to just stop?" Kyungsoo questions, making the older man feel like it would've been better to say that what his dick and heart want are two distinctly different things and hope that Kyungsoo doesn't tear into him afterwards, because there's the invisible weight plopping down to his gut again, especially when he uses his voice to utter _words_ instead of the sounds the actor wants him to make.

 

"Stop," Baekhyun answers nervously, surprising himself that he doesn't choke on letters when he's suddenly cold, and scared, and confused at the words spilling out of his own mouth. "I...I don't want to do it in my work place's parking."

 

More surprisingly, instead of just getting up and leaving to let the guilt creep, Kyungsoo gives him an almost unnoticeable small smile, meant to be comforting, before Kyungsoo kisses his cheek and whispers, “ _Alright_.”

 

Baekhyun is left stunned as his boyfriend simply gets off him and slips out of the car to give him more space to straighten himself out; to smooth out the creases on the shirt he's buttoning back up and the mess his hair has become to tell the heart in his chest to stop its drumming—without sighing or physically coaxing him or—or—

 

"Soo?" He crawls to the other side, peeking through the car door that Kyungsoo is finally pushing close. Well, almost close.

 

"Hm?" Kyungsoo glances at him. "Are you done already?"

 

Baekhyun nods, still confused and in disbelief that Kyungsoo— _Do Kyungsoo_ —is just letting it slide. He reflexively backs away when the door opens again ever so slightly, to let another hand land on the buttons of his shirt. He stares at the younger man while he does his best not to fidget as his boyfriend fixes the buttons for him, making him realize that he got one in the wrong hole in his panicked haste.

 

"You're always in such a hurry," Kyungsoo mutters, occupying his open mouth again with a short kiss.

 

"You're—you're really taking me to dinner?" Baekhyun asks, eyes fluttering open once their lips part and inhaling a whiff of strange yet also terribly familiar cologne.

 

Kyungsoo pets his head, hand weirdly light and gentle. "Yes. We can do what you want afterwards."

 

Baekhyun nods, vaguely feeling like Kyungsoo just called him his good boy, and closes the door when his boyfriend walks over to the other side to slip into the driver's seat in front. He sees the actor glance fleetingly at him through the small mirror, making him swallow discreetly at the intensity of the dark eyes, before Kyungsoo is revving up the engine and driving smoothly out of the building and the vicinity.

 

Baekhyun should probably just stay quiet throughout the trip, but the song playing in the background is one they both know. He feels just the tiniest bit queasy about being in an enclosed space with someone whose mouth has just been on him. He shifts closer to the window, trying to hide himself from someone who knows very well how to make him scream, whether he really wants to or not, if he had just felt as comfortable riding a cock instead of a car.

 

He feels a little sick about enjoying Kyungsoo, who now listens to him and lets him hold his hand while watching TV or reading at home, because it… it feels weird. It's—Kyungsoo is suddenly so different that it almost feels like he's... like he's still cheating on Kyungsoo. Even if it’s his rightful boyfriend between his legs, he still feels like he’s cheating.

 

(Who is he even cheating on anymore...?)

 

"Soo, didn't you say you'd be in Shanghai until next week?" Baekhyun glances once at the actor through the same mirror. Just this once. "Your movie premiere is next week, isn't it?"

 

"I came home for you," Kyungsoo replies a little later, making the singer feel the slightest bit warmer as he fidgets out of the former's view. "And yes, it is."

 

"Is it alright for you to be back this early?"

 

"You know, if I didn't know any better..." Kyungsoo looks back at him as they come to a stop because of a red light. "I'd think you almost sound eager to be rid of me."

 

"That's—that's not what I meant," Baekhyun immediately denies, heart jumping into his throat and earning himself a quiet expression of mild surprise and... something else.

 

"I was joking," His boyfriend smiles a small smile. "I'll be leaving after the premiere. I wanted to be here today, so my manager and I reached an agreement."

 

"O-Oh," Baekhyun shrinks and feels his ears burn slightly; a drop of something he isn't sure whether he should call pleasant landing in the middle of his nervous gut. He stays quiet for the rest of the ride and pretends that he doesn't notice his boyfriend watching him closely through the mirror.

 

Kyungsoo is checking to see if he's comfortable because he's only ever been in the Mercedes twice, maybe even just thrice before, but he closes his legs anyway. He loosely folds one leg over the other, just wide enough to make himself appear gathered despite the throbbing of being a little more than half-hard and the tiniest amount of satisfaction that comes from himself rubbing from inside the tightness of his slacks. He knows better than to start touching himself, no matter how discreet he can try to be, when he had denied the man access to him earlier.

 

He's not that cruel.

 

(Oh, are you not?)

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Baekhyun feels his heart jump in excitement the moment Kyungsoo leads him inside the humble restaurant.

 

It's quite a small and new place. Since it's a good couple of hours away from the noise and eyes of the city, his boyfriend doesn't find the need to hide his face. He lets himself relax now that he knows it's not going to be as a tension-filled evening, with him trying to stretch time he has with D.O. longer than it should be and with Kyungsoo waiting for him to finish eating so they can leave, like previous times.

 

He drinks in the interior and lets nostalgia wash him away once he recognizes the posters of his agency's old groups amongst the new ones. He gasps the moment he spots a picture of Jongdae in a corner and immediately pulls his quiet boyfriend towards the seats there. He laughs as he points at his best friend's unflattering face securely plastered on the wall.

 

"Wow~ Jongdae looks so young here, I can't believe it," Baekhyun just gushes in awe as he stands on his toes, trying to scan the rest of the huge collage for any pictures of himself. "Amazing. It's mostly our talents. Is the owner our chairman or something?"

 

Kyungsoo gently nudges him, smiling a little again, "Hey, what do you want to eat?"

 

"I'll have what you're havi—Soo, I found a picture! Look, look!" Baekhyun beams as he points at another picture above Jongdae's, even tugging on his boyfriend's sleeve again to make the latter lean closer. "It's tteokbokki stand ahjussi!"

 

He pokes at the old photo for emphasis, scrunching his nose in giddiness. There were four of them in the printed image. Him, Jongdae, Dyo with the tteokbokki ahjussi from their trainee days. It made Baekhyun snicker.

 

Jongdae didn't look all that pleased in the picture. It was Jongdae's—Chen's—first time eating tteokbokki because Jongdae lived in China before becoming a trainee. Kids being kids, they made a big deal out of everything and thought it was a monumental moment worthy of being immortalized. Putting extra spice in a tteok virgin's order didn't make for the greatest first time. Now, though, if he has to get rid of something that turns out too spicy, he knows he can just give it to Kim ‘ _Iron Stomach’_ Jongdae.

 

"Gah, the things that tteokbokki ahjussi had to put up with everyday," Baekhyun laughs, remembering how embarrassing rowdy young boys usually were. They were no exception.

 

Kyungsoo watches him a little longer, just lets him reminisce a little longer, before saying, "This is his restaurant now."

 

"What? Really? Is tteokbokki ahjussi here then?" Baekhyun asks, already detaching himself from the wall to search for the kitchen.

 

Kyungsoo just lets him wander too, preferring to occupy the corner to claim as theirs while waiting for him. Baekhyun slightly squats to peek through the order window past the counter, earning a quizzical look from the sleepy man in it while he squints at the back of—huh, he doesn't really know if who he's looking at is tteokbokki ahjussi. He stands straight again, flashing a disarming smile at the young man behind the counter, before skittering back to the actor.

 

"I want tteokbokki," Baekhyun says as he plops down on the seat across Kyungsoo's and his boyfriend stands to order.

 

"Just tteok? Are you sure?" The younger man asks, walking over to flip over the menu's page for the singer, who just realizes the thing has been there in front of him the entire time. "I suppose we can share mine, if you want."

 

Sharing… Baekhyun blinks at the delectable image of ramyun, then at his boyfriend's face. Did Kyungsoo just suggest they share his order? Did he hear it right? "You want to share...?"

 

"Yes, why not?"

 

‘ _Because you hate sharing...? You hate it when I steal your food?’_ He doesn't say and nods, instead, as he watches Kyungsoo approach the counter and startle the lad behind it. He snickers to himself when he sees the kid sputter, perhaps nervous, because Kyungsoo _is_ intimidating, after all. Later on, he sees the kid pull out some sizable board from under the counter and a marker for Kyungsoo to sign with.

 

"A fan, huh?" Baekhyun chuckles upon his boyfriend’s return. "Haven't you been here before?"

 

"Once. I thought to bring home tteokbokki for you before but the stall wasn't there anymore. I got lucky, I guess," Kyungsoo replies. "He still remembers me."

 

"Mm. It's hard to forget you," Baekhyun comments while scanning through the menu, amazed. "You were everyone's favorite."

 

"You were my favorite," Kyungsoo nonchalantly says after a moment, and he realizes the actor has been staring at him the whole time when he finally looks up from the menu.

 

From a small stall where he would sneak out from practice, to an actual resto... time flew by fast. He still remembers stealing Dyo's food just to catch the maknae's attention. It… well, it wasn't the best way to make a first impression. Too much tteok every day also upset Jongdae's stomach.

 

"You avoided me often," Baekhyun answers with a slightly uneasy chuckle, unsure whether to let the smile win over his features despite the happiness he feels from being surrounded by memories.

 

"I didn't know how to react to you."

 

"I know. I got the hint when you switched rooms with Jongdae," He smiles just a little. "I mean, _kind_ of got the hint. You were really shy and quiet back then. Who would have ever thought you'd be an actor?"

 

Kyungsoo lowers eyes then, staring at the space between their hands. One pair clenched while the other traces invisible lines over ramyun again. Kyungsoo must feel awkward, being someone who doesn't step outside of the house if not for work and other reasons as urgent.

 

It feels weird to eat outside together when it had always been just dates in the house. Baekhyun liked to call them dates, anyway, because they couldn't go somewhere far together just in case the other's manager suddenly calls. Both of their schedules and Kyungsoo's status limit the places they could go to and he didn't want to risk ruining the few times he got Kyungsoo to himself.

 

Wouldn't it have been nice, though, if they could date like normal couples do? If Kyungsoo talked to him more, talked to him like this, before? It would have been so nice if Kyungsoo also had time for him, because he always tried to make time for Kyungsoo. Would they be here, though, if he had gotten used to Do Kyungsoo's expression of utter concentration while feeding him fish cakes, instead of having formed the habit of trying to enjoy food while he can because he knows Kyungsoo leaving comes right after the meal is over?

 

"Chew slowly," Kyungsoo scolds him, taking a bite of the fish cake that was meant for his mouth if it weren't already so full. Kyungsoo groans again when the actor wipes a bit of sauce from his mouth. "Why are you such a messy eater?"

 

Baekhyun licks his lips afterwards, eyes questioning when his boyfriend cuts _soondae_ and raises the piece to his mouth. He bites it and chews slowly, just like he had just been told, before responding, "Soo, you've been feeding me more than you're eating."

 

"It's fine. It's my boyfriend's birthday so I want him to eat well," Kyungsoo simply answers.

 

That catches Baekhyun off guard. It just reminded him of what he is. Right now, Do Kyungsoo is his boyfriend, and he is Kyungsoo's. Still Kyungsoo’s. The pictures on the walls around them are proofs of how Byun Baekhyun went from someone who admired trainee Dyo to Hallyu star D.O.'s boyfriend.

 

"What’s the matter?" The actor notices, and it makes him even more... conflicted. Guilty. “Did I say something wrong?”

 

Baekhyun is surprised. Again, he's so surprised and he feels like he's suddenly so vulnerable that he even drops his chopsticks. He fumbles embarrassingly to retrieve them. What... what is he supposed to—

 

"No, you just—I just haven't heard you call me that before. I-I mean, you almost never—"

 

"I know. I… I understand. I never called you my boyfriend and I never let you call me yours," Kyungsoo tells him; looks straight at him. "I'm sorry for putting you through that."

 

Just like that… Kyungsoo just says it like that. Is… is this for real? Why is—

 

Why is Kyungsoo acting this way?

 

(Why now when he has given so, _so_ many chances before?)

 

Baekhyun never sees tteokbokki ahjussi, but he knows the tteokbokki he shares with Kyungsoo tonight is made the same as the teokbokki he used to anonymously receive from Dyo.

 

He glances at his own photo behind his boyfriend, the last one taken with all three of them as boys with one same dream of becoming a bona fide singer, and remembers that his memories have already passed. _Now_ is not _then_ , and _then_ cannot ever be _now_ again. What he enjoyed and wanted before have changed.

 

Baekhyun ponders about this while he realizes that Kyungsoo is smiling at his nervous rambling. Kyungsoo even laughs when he accidentally spills anecdotes of Jongdae, even though they both know his best friend hates his boyfriend's guts and vice versa when they, too, used to be close. It's been a while since the last time he has seen Kyungsoo's smile or even the last time that Kyungsoo talked about something that isn't work. It’s been too long.

 

It feels like it, anyway, so he all but devours every word that comes out of his boyfriend's mouth—about Shanghai, about the things they both remember—even if it stings. Of course, it does. It stings a little at first. Avoiding talking about how being two grown men with each of their own commitments is different from the infatuated young boys they were before kind of hurts.

 

Then, it starts to sting a lot, because they truly tried to be good friends before they became each other's ‘ _Welcome home_.’ They were friends, way before all of this, and Baekhyun feels like his heart is going to burst because he misses a lot of things. He misses many things, so much and all at the same time. But, missing something is simply different from wanting it.

 

Dinner is great. No, dinner is—perfect. Kyungsoo grants one of his wishes by being the boyfriend he had wanted before and embracing him before he can slip into the Mercedes's passenger's seat. It almost feels like a declaration in plain sight while also hiding him away from everyone else's eyes.

 

It makes Baekhyun happy. He's really happy and his heart is happy. He hasn't been happy with Kyungsoo for such a long time that he almost—really—just cries.

 

He had spent years telling himself it was love. He had spent the succeeding years determined to prove to others that it was love. It didn't matter whether Kyungsoo rarely called, it was fine for as long as Kyungsoo replied to his messages every now and then.

 

He kept saying that someday, he was going to be the most important person to his most important person.

 

"Happy birthday," Kyungsoo whispers in his ear.

 

This time, Baekhyun trembles for the right reasons and doesn't fight a laugh from bubbling in his throat.

 

He told himself that, one day, Do Kyungsoo would look at him and realize that looking at him is looking at love. That one day is here now. That one day is tonight, when Do Kyungsoo made an effort to take him out for the date they kept cancelling before; when Do Kyungsoo presses their lips together as if they have never been the ones to teach each other what a bruise is.

 

One day… one day, he would hear Kyungsoo say ‘ _I love you’_ and it wouldn't matter whether it's Kyungsoo saying it first or answering him because he said it first. As long as Kyungsoo says it and he hears it, he said he was going to be the happiest he could ever be. He was going to be happy.

 

Kyungsoo cups his face again. It's just like that one morning when Kyungsoo had told him sorry and hasn't hurt him since. His boyfriend doesn't give him space to look at anything else, to think of anything else, while it's both the tips of their noses again and he's staring back at someone who looks ready to chase him now, too.

 

Baekhyun finally hears Kyungsoo tell him, "I love you."

 

But—tonight is the last.

 

It's going to be the last of the nights that he will fool himself into believing that words that come too late will forever be welcomed, for as long as they come at all, when they should never be uttered for the sake of saving a relationship that is already beyond salvation. After this, after the premiere, he's going to confess all of his sins to the man who's both deserving and undeserving of them. He's going to let Kyungsoo hate him after D.O. is done with him.

 

(You don't have to say it.)

 

Baekhyun is going to completely let Dyo go, because hearing Kyungsoo say ‘ _I love you’_ and having Chanyeol flash in his mind is the end.

 

(It hurts _so_ much to say it.)

 

It's really, and finally, the end.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

By the time he wakes, the space beside him is already empty. The bags have been packed, the books have been returned… their room looks like how it’s always been—almost empty; merely a place of routine. Kyungsoo’s side of the bed is already cold.

 

There’s breakfast on the table when he goes out of their room. They’re pancakes with strawberries on top. He doesn’t remember buying strawberries or whipped cream, but he _does_ remember that Kyungsoo prepares their meals whenever possible, even when Kyungsoo doesn’t always approve of the things he likes and the food he prefers to eat.

 

Baekhyun looks at the only plate on the table. The only meal he can see had been prepared solely for him. He’s used to eating by himself but, of course, he admits he’s going to miss it.

 

He's going to miss eating with Kyungsoo, sitting beside Kyungsoo, being with Kyungsoo. Maybe he's not going to miss being in a relationship with Kyungsoo as much as he is missing being friends, but there will always be a part of him that will belong to Kyungsoo. Maybe after the pain subsides, he will still feel wistful about what he could've been with Kyungsoo.

 

“Good morning,” Baekhyun greets the man who has been the biggest part of his life thus far with a fond smile.

 

Kyungsoo glances at him, blinking with red eyes, before his actor glances away and reciprocates, “Good morning.”

 

Baekhyun ignores the warm meal waiting for him on their dinner table and approaches the younger man, staring at the wet state his boyfriend is in before plucking the towel from the latter. He steps forward, silently asking for permission, before he dries Kyungsoo’s hair.

 

“You don't look well,” he observes, a little frown tugging at his lips as the other man avoids meeting his eyes. “Your eyes are…”

 

“I just need more sleep,” Kyungsoo flatly responds and later adds, “Shampoo got in my eye.”

 

The older man would have snickered, but this is Do Kyungsoo who dislikes making mistakes; Do Kyungsoo who is looking at him like there are words written on his face and doesn't want to read them. It stings when he thinks he wants to lean in and embrace Kyungsoo for what could be the last time but the first thing his body does is flinch. He swallows the churning in his stomach and opts to display a smile in response to his boyfriend taking the towel from his hands and leaving him there.

 

“You forgot your phone on the couch again. I placed it on the counter,” Kyungsoo says before disappearing into the hall to check his luggage, Baekhyun supposes.

 

Instead of following, Baekhyun sinks onto a seat and takes the plate of pancakes. The pancakes are creamy and sweet thanks to the fruits and the milk. Just the way he likes it, he thinks, and he would have smiled at how Kyungsoo remembered his vague suggestions from last time.

 

He would have smiled if guilt didn't taste so bitter on his tongue right now. It’s always easier to remember the things that you shouldn’t have done, isn’t it? He eyes the opened bottle of rum, sees it’s empty, and he thinks, Kyungsoo doesn't deserve him.

 

He doesn't deserve Kyungsoo.

 

(Goodbyes taste so bittersweet.)

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

This is it.

 

Today's the day.

 

"Wait for me," Kyungsoo whispers in his ear before leaving his side.

 

He stays where he's rooted and watches his boyfriend walk down the red carpet as D.O., who smiles expertly shy at the flashing cameras. The general public swoons in response, eliciting squeals from the rowdier female onlookers, and intensifies with the clamoring of fans being held at bay by muscular security personnel. D.O. glances at them with the pretence of a self-conscious young man and smiles again.

 

Baekhyun rubs over the expanse of his long sleeve to ease the goosebumps from seeing his boyfriend in action. It makes him so uneasy to remember that an actor is just, fundamentally, a paid liar. It's frightening to consider that Kyungsoo may have been born for this, more than having been born to share his voice, while he observes from afar how a man can change himself so much and in so little time. D.O. is a natural, and now it seems much more foolish that he ever thought he could get in between D.O. and work.

 

"Mr. Byun, aren't you going to walk too?"

 

He smiles and shakes his head at another one of D.O.'s acquaintances for the third time. He's past the age of wanting all eyes on him for as much as possible. He supposes that if he remained an idol, the paparazzi would be all over him and Kyungsoo. Less exposure and material that can justify speculations is always good. It's great, in case today turns out so much worse than he expects it to be.

 

The chatter never stops. It's almost annoying. He wonders if this is how Kyungsoo feels whenever he doesn't stop talking.

 

Baekhyun stops himself from thinking when he starts questioning how real the man who comes home to him is and busies himself by observing the red carpet instead. People just seem to get louder and louder—something about a guy being absurdly handsome. And tall. Did he hear that right?

 

Is it a model? A new idol...? The cameras go crazy again, and he can't determine whether it's a good thing when he examines the media people's faces and finds puzzled expressions. Do they or do they not know whoever's walking down the red carpet this time?

 

Perhaps, it's been much longer since he last attended an event like this. It doesn't help that most of the other attendees seem taller either, especially those surrounding the glorified red rug, so he can't see the newcomers from where he is. He pouts. He utterly refuses to be caught standing on his toes for a peek.

 

Kyungsoo comes to save him just as he was about to help himself commit the embarrassing act of standing on tipped toes. The actor shoots him a look, one that he pretends not to notice, before he's suddenly being pulled away from the crowd that is now disappearing into the theatre.

 

He winces at the grip. It hurts.

 

"Where are we going?" Baekhyun asks, throwing a glance behind him to check for paparazzi before staring at his boyfriend's back again. "Soo, your movie is—"

 

"We can just sneak in later," is the chilling response he gets, making him just shut his mouth because he also senses the intimidating aura that the latter is emitting.

 

Albeit knowing they're getting farther and farther away from the movie theatre, he follows through the halls with dimmed yellow lights just so the hand around his elbow loosens. Kyungsoo cuts corners and drags him some more, never speaking, until the younger man pushes a door open and he's pulled into—a bathroom? It's one of the exclusive washrooms for those in the upper end of the guest list and staying in the hotel suites of the same establishment.

 

It's empty.

 

What's going on...?

 

Baekhyun doesn't even get enough time to scan the interior, let alone time to make sense of what's happening before he's pulled inside and heaved—thrown—to sit onto the low unified sink.

 

"Open your mouth," is all the warning he gets before he's silenced completely by a fierce kiss and dominated by a tongue and teeth.

 

It hurts. It hurts first. He hates it and he hates himself first, before his body shudders and he starts to moan because the pain transforms into pleasure next.

 

He thought he'd never experience it again, would never have to kiss back so hard that he'd worry about another bruise, just so Kyungsoo wouldn't bite his lips to make sure he whimpers. His vest is already being pushed open, buttons coming undone, until the shirt underneath is also baring his shoulders for the man who unlatches from his mouth to mark his neck. Kyungsoo bites him hard, before sucking the same patch of skin on the junction of his neck and shoulder and making him let out a tight groan. The hand previously on his arm now finds its way to his hair, and the grip is much more forceful to be called coaxing and yet gentle enough not to be demanding.

 

It's an immaculate suit that the actor is wearing, while his—his own is just being crumpled and tested further and further by aggressive hands and the sudden need for release. He barely realizes his shoes are gone, but he much more aware of the belt unlooping from pants and the sound of a zipper being yanked down. All his. His shirt, his pants, his belt—he's already exposed. Kyungsoo is always so quick to leave him exposed.

 

In just a moment, it’s already too late for him to stop his boyfriend from snaking hands lower down his body and completely ripping the slacks off his legs to seize his quivering thighs for himself.

 

Baekhyun hisses at the sudden wave of cold, doing very little to remedy the hot flush of every inch of his skin, before his legs are being forcefully spread for him again. He can only imagine how scandalous this looks. All it would take is one picture, just one, to end both of them. The bathroom door to his left is still fucking open and anyone can just walk in on him about to be fucked raw in a goddamn bathroom.

 

That terrifies him. The possibility of being seen like this is so much more frightening than Kyungsoo knowing that he's been cheating. Getting caught with his cock out and legs around Do Kyungsoo's slender waist, rutting against another man, whether he's entirely naked or not, scares him _shitless_.

 

And yet, all he can think about right now is how he pants, moans, and pleads as he clings to Kyungsoo's neck and resists the urge to be vindictive, to rip the fabric beneath his fingers and have something to sink his teeth in as well. He wants revenge for the tight coiling in his gut when Kyungsoo's hand engulfs him in hot, painful strokes, for the humiliating panting his mouth does despite knowing Kyungsoo is still only playing with him, but he also knows he can't. Kyungsoo knows just exactly where to push and pushes so damn hard that he's left gasping at the lingering sting of teeth on skin and writhing to try and help himself.

 

The grasp around his cock is painful, and so are the teeth on his neck. He already knows to grit through the pain if he's not going to moan a man's name even before Kyungsoo raises himself up to press sinful lips to his ear again for a reminder, _“Bite me and you're not going to walk out of here on your own.”_

 

Baekhyun could only nod in acquiescence as he groans at being set afire, at being too far gone to think of anything that isn't another man's hands on him. He latches onto the actor's neck and places soft kisses over the latter's jaw, torn between clawing or caressing at a clothed back while offering desperate whimpers in exchange for the tiniest bit of mercy.

 

"Som—someone will—" he shudders, utterly trapped. He's trapped and _so_ close. Fuck, everything feels _so_ —hot and so good, and he isn’t even being filled yet.

 

"Don't you have something else to tell me?" Kyungsoo asks with a hot breath over one of his most sensitive areas, just a little behind his ear, before planting open-mouthed kisses on his neck—lower and lower—while stroking agonizingly slower.

 

Baekhyun feels so trapped between each carnal moan and another involuntary shudder he makes as he arches his back and unwittingly grinds his hips, own mouth hanging slightly open as he pathetically paws and whimpers some more. He shakes his head. Stop. But all that comes out of his mouth is a choked groan and a dirty moan… after moan, after moan.

 

"You do, don't you?"

 

‘Beg,’ is what he expects the younger man to say next.

 

Kyungsoo expects him to beg for cock first, to cry about how badly he wants it. Then he would answer ‘No’. It's always a ‘No’ at first, and then Kyungsoo would step back. No more hands, no more heat, only the evidence of a mouth having been on him, on his flushed and marked body while he makes a sad attempt to pull Kyungsoo back before the latter is farther than an arm's reach. He might—and he would—cry at how unfair it feels; to be a mess to just be abandoned while the man responsible for this torture watches him, but he would spread his legs wider and set himself on display anyway.

 

He would touch and stroke himself when Kyungsoo tells him to, whether he's still able to feel shame about playing with himself or he's already too desperate to release that he forgets he's being watched at all. Whether it's his own fingers in his mouth or a bundled shirt to muffle his sounds, and even when Kyungsoo growls commands at the most ridiculous times, he'd obey because he needs and wants to cum. Kyungsoo knows where to hit where it hurts the most, whether it’s pride, his simple feelings for Dyo, or something else entirely.

 

“Soo, please,” Baekhyun _does_ beg. He begs for Kyungsoo to stop because he doesn’t want this. “Not here.”

 

Not here and not right now, but saying ‘No’ is so hard when his body doesn’t cooperate with what his mind is screaming for it to do; to stop. _Stop fucking caving into this._ Instead, he writhes and gasps, beginning to cry at something as seemingly ‘insignificant’ as him reaching out to be held and receiving a new map of bruises; at being under the utter mercy of being this close to release while being intensely afraid of it as well.

 

This—this shouldn’t be happening. This is humiliating. This is _wrong._

 

Baekhyun's eyes already feel hot. Everything is hot. He gets more painfully aware of the state he's in when Kyungsoo finally pulls away from him and he's too late to stop a sob. He doesn't have to glance at the mirror behind him to know how vulgar he looks right now—with his vest and shirt torn open and his own cum sliding down from his stomach to wet the fabric below his waist, boxers clinging desperately halfway to his knees.

 

He looks dirty. He _feels_ dirty and he _is_. He's filthy and used.

 

It starts to sink into him, just a little.

 

Then, suddenly, all at once.

 

Kyungsoo brushes knuckles against his cold palms, a mockery of comfort, before the man wipes a tear with a thumb and kisses his temple. He hesitates over crying on his boyfriend's shoulder and hiding his face in his hands. What… just happened?

 

Did it really just happen? To him?

 

Why...?

 

Why did Kyungsoo do that to him?

 

"We're not done, Baekhyun," D.O. says before grasping tight on his arm once more and suddenly wrenching him to stand, without giving him a moment to even try to put back together what's left of the buttons on his dress shirt. He finds himself kneeling, completely vulnerable with his back right in front of the open bathroom door and his mouth being pried open to welcome a throbbing cock inside. “Because there’s something I want to hear from you.”

 

“Please don’t,” He whimpers in protest and, when D.O. only grasps his hair, he begins to cry—harder; more. “Please, Soo, whatever it is—I’m sorry. Please.”

 

“Oh, are you?” D.O. angrily hisses.

 

Baekhyun doesn't know what else can hurt more than this, more than being defenseless. What can possibly hurt more than parting his lips and letting a cock sheath itself inside his mouth, just to get it over with? More than having someone who still means so much to him, even if it's in a way that's now different from before, look down at him like they can't stand the very sight of him anymore?

 

Maybe the fact that he cheated. Him cheating is what hurts the most, and it hurts like a fucking bitch for his boyfriend.

 

"Are you sorry about meeting Zampano? Are you, _babe_?" Kyungsoo growls, forcing Baekhyun's mouth open and retains his threat about biting back as he scowls at the tears. "What about him made you cheat on me, Baek? Is it his hands? His voice? His face? Is it the way he looks at you?"

 

It’s the fucking tears again. If it’s not Baekhyun unwittingly saying some other man’s name while asleep, it’s crying about that fucking man who has the gall to call and beg for someone already taken. This morning is the last time he deletes Zampano’s _goddamn_ texts from his boyfriend’s phone.

 

"He seems like he'd always know the right thing to say, doesn't he? That's his job, right? He makes himself available for you while my job just makes you wait,” Kyungsoo watches the man between his legs really cry then, choking on the cock being shoved to the back of his throat and pawing desperately at his clothed thighs.

 

Baekhyun gags. He can't breathe, and each attempt to push air back into his lungs has him coughing and digging his nails on his boyfriend's slacks. He can't pull away, not completely and never enough to unlatch from the hard cock’s tip. All he could taste were the salt from his tears and the bitterness of cum.

 

Kyungsoo wants him there to bear it until the end.

 

“What are the things he tells you, Hyun? I love you? Does he call you his boyfriend? Or is it you who calls him boyfriend?"

 

It's not right. Kyungsoo _knows_ it's not right, but he has been swallowing his first love's infidelity the entire time. All this time, he had just been waiting for Baekhyun to say sorry; for Baekhyun to cry to him; to beg for forgiveness and never do it again. "I knew, Hyun. I fucking knew of your affair."

 

But instead—

 

 _Instead_ , Baekhyun fucking went back.

 

To what? A host?  _A host?!_

 

Baekhyun kept _cheating_ on him with some other man who lies and promises the same bullshit to other clients. _His boyfriend_ fucking pays for another man to fuck him and make him happy. What the hell was Kyungsoo supposed to feel about that?

 

“How could you, Hyun? _How_ could you cheat on me?”

 

Baekhyun continues to weep from below him, torn dress shirt the only article of clothing as a sorry excuse for decency because the vest has already been torn off and flung away—just like everything else that previously wrapped around the singer’s body.

 

It’s cold. The sight of his boyfriend in ruin, leaving Baekhyun as an emotional wreck as the aftermath, is fucking cold.

 

But _rage_ is white hot, and whatever part of Kyungsoo that is supposed to pity Baekhyun, who cries while sucking his cock and is self-conscious enough to at least try not to be so pathetic, simply dies against the side of him that is inconsolable. He hates this. He _loathes_ this.

 

But how? _How_ could Baekhyun fucking do that to him? How could Baekhyun _betray_ him like this?

 

He wasn't blind. He had been quick to notice the changes. Baekhyun might have done well had the man left with him to act, but Kyungsoo was not a fucking fool to not have noticed the inconsistencies between his boyfriend's stories and the things about Baekhyun that he kept track of.

 

He knew Baekhyun's schedule. He knew Baekhyun's habits. He knew where Baekhyun went after work.

 

He was going to let it slide, he really was going to, but the mere _thought_ of Baekhyun spending nights in another man's house, sleeping in some other man's arms, and having sex with another man—it ate him. Everything that was supposed to be just for him and Baekhyun to share wasn't _just_ for them anymore, and it gnawed at him with each passing day and haunted him at night until it completely consumed him.

 

Now, here they are. Now he's here, unable to contain the rage and the hurt from being betrayed—no less by the man who used to vow love to him everyday. Now he's hurting Baekhyun because he wants Baekhyun to feel how much he has hurt him.

 

He can’t—

 

Kyungsoo can’t _stand_ it.

 

Zampano texting Baekhyun, calling Baekhyun, _begging_ to see his Baekhyun. The bastard just doesn’t know when to fucking quit. He fucking wants to break Zampano’s heart. He wants Baekhyun's goddamn host to hurt too and wish they had never crossed paths. He won’t be satisfied unless Zampano gets hurt, too; unless Zampano gets absolutely and utterly ruined that it’ll hurt the man to even think of the name Baekhyun.

 

In an impulsive and exhausted bout of rage and hurt, he had gone ahead and replied to Zampano’s last text before deleting it. That Baekhyun wants to meet him today.

 

Zampano wanted to see Baekhyun? Fine.

 

Zampano is going to see Baekhyun, then.

 

Zampano will see Baekhyun _today_.

 

Baekhyun coughs violently after he's finally permitted to slide off the cock, just until his parted lips stopped at the tip. Spit and cum dripped from his mouth to his chin. His face was dirty, it felt flushed, and he knew it was stained with both dried and fresh tears alongside more cum as his boyfriend came in his mouth, on his lips and the rest of his face.

 

This time… this time, he doesn't hesitate to hide himself anymore and just cries in his palms.

 

He wants to vomit the bitterness in his mouth. All of it. He doesn’t want to hear Kyungsoo zip himself and just straighten himself like nothing happened. He doesn't want to be here anymore. Anywhere else but here.

 

"Get up," Kyungsoo ordered him.

 

He couldn't speak. His legs couldn't move and his whole body strangely felt numb. He just wanted to be left alone.

 

‘ _Leave me alone,’_ Baekhyun desperately wanted to shout, ‘ _Please just leave me,’_ but all that comes out of his lips when he tries to inhale is a painful sob.

 

He shoves his boyfriend away when the latter insists, until Kyungsoo is yanking him by the arm again before whispering, "Get up or do you want me to fuck you in front of the man you've been cheating on me with?"

 

"Leave him out of this," Baekhyun hisses back, like a wounded animal that continues to resist from being manhandled for the thousandth fucking time, but his legs are truly still and dead and they won't stop quivering. His knees feels like they’re burning and he's shaking and so sorry for himself because he knows how dirty he is, and he hasn't even wiped himself clean when he's suddenly being turned around—

 

"Ch-Chanyeol—" He chokes as he locks eyes with a breathless Dream host, standing by the door with furrowed brows.

 

It's really—and _just_ —Chanyeol, who isn't wearing one of Zampano's tailored Dream suits. Chanyeol who is sweating and catching his own breath like he had run a mile just to get there… as if Chanyeol somehow received all his unspoken wishes of seeing him again and decided to grant them all.

 

But he didn't want Chanyeol there. He didn't want Chanyeol to see him, not right now.

 

How? Why is Chanyeol here? Why?

 

His host is staring at him, at _them_ , with an expression of—confusion? Anger? Betrayal? Chanyeol—oh, his Chanyeol looks _so_ shocked and hurt right now. Seeing Chanyeol like this _breaks_ his heart. It crushes Baekhyun to have Chanyeol see him like this, naked and vulnerable and crying between a man’s legs when he remembers how he had fled from the younger man's apartment last time.

 

“Yeol, it's—”

 

This is not how their next meeting is supposed to be like. He’s not supposed to see Chanyeol before he could say—

 

"It's not—" He tries to explain, wiping the white off his chin with the back of his hand and crawling towards his host, but Chanyeol—

 

Chanyeol is already shaking his head and tearing his own eyes away from the sight of him, and what's left of Baekhyun's heart shatters when he sees the man he loves's face fill with so much pain.

 

It’s—

 

It’s Chanyeol who runs away this time.

 

 


	7. Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the consequences abruptly catch up with each of them, it's both everything and nothing like they imagined it would be.
> 
> (What do you call it, when the pain is so tremendously debilitating that it simply leaves you crippled?)

 

> until the moment I die, I wanted to make you smile
> 
> but they're killing me — your lips, your nose, your teary eyes
> 
> [눈,코,입](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBLqpEhu_O8)

 

 

Nine in the morning.

 

"It's still too early," Do Kyungsoo reminds himself as he leans back against the edge of the tub and closes his eyes, submerging himself and letting the water rise up to his chin and surround him.

 

The water is hot but the porcelain is cold… He should have opted for a shower instead.

 

Baekhyun could wake at any moment now.

 

His boyfriend always has the privilege of sleeping in late and used to snuggle against him to keep him from escaping their bed so early in the mornings. Now, though... now, Baekhyun curls and stays on his own side of the bed. Baekhyun would rather wander in his own dreams than talk to him, unlike before.

 

He made breakfast. It's pancakes with cream and strawberries. He could have waited for Baekhyun to wake so they could eat together just like old times.

 

They almost never have time for each other anymore and he dearly misses Baekhyun, but he doesn't think he can sit across his boyfriend and think of what they used to be. He doesn't think he can face Baekhyun today and remember the past long enough to point out how different it is from the present. He's not ready to face Baekhyun and miss him. He simply isn't.

 

He can't even stand to look at the things that Baekhyun loves anymore and everything— _just about everything_ —reminds him of Baekhyun.

 

Kyungsoo doesn't think he can do this anymore.

 

Pretend he doesn't know. Pretend that it doesn't hurt him. Pretend he doesn't wake early to rid Baekhyun's phone of another man's messages before he forces himself to sleep again afterwards.

 

All he does now is pretend.

 

But he's an actor. Pretending is what he does for a living. It's just that, it shouldn't mean that he must lie to the person he loves, too, should it? It shouldn't mean he must be a stranger to the man he works so hard for, should it?

 

He... can't keep pretending that everything is fine or that he isn't tired of this.

 

How?

 

How can nothing feel right anymore...?

 

All he feels is hurt now whenever he sees Baekhyun. There's no fluttering in his stomach, there's no fuzziness in his chest, there's only the clenching of his heart and a knife being twisted in his gut because he isn't enough. Do Kyungsoo _still_ isn't _enough_ for Byun Baekhyun.

 

> _"Who are you?"_

 

When Baekhyun cried, all Kyungsoo wanted to do was to make everything stop.

 

When his boyfriend looked at him as if he were someone else—a _stranger—_ and pushed him, and screamed at him to just go, he believed Baekhyun was being unfair. It hurt him. It almost broke his heart, having Baekhyun shout at him as if his presence made life itself harder for him. That was his boyfriend screaming at him, the love of his life.

 

But what hurt even more, what hurt him the most—what _still_ hurts him—is the fact that Baekhyun went and sought someone else behind his back.

 

 _Baekhyun_ , who would wake him in the mornings with goofy renditions of girl group hits and later on make a special kind of noise with him; who would shriek and make a huge deal out of his on-screen fights and then spoil him at home; who would offer to practice his kissing scenes with because it was alright for him to kiss someone else for as long as Baekhyun got to do it first and last. Baekhyun who never failed to tell him ‘ _I love you.’_ His Baekhyun.

 

Kyungsoo doesn't want to think of Baekhyun as a stranger, as someone he only thought he knew, because  _god_ … how can he? Where does he even begin? How do two people go from _‘My future is yours’_ to _‘Will you still spend the rest of your life with me?’_

 

What went wrong?

 

Where?

 

How did this happen?

 

He loves Baekhyun so much. God knows he's been in love with Byun Baekhyun all this time and that it's the only thing he doesn't ever forget about himself. He works himself to the ground to give Baekhyun everything; wears every mask he's given and speaks someone else's lies while anticipating the moment he can come back home as _just_ Do Kyungsoo, and yet—

 

He wasn't enough.

 

He _still_ wasn't enough.

 

Baekhyun didn't believe he was enough, because if his boyfriend believed otherwise, then Baekhyun would have never found another man to hold.

 

Kyungsoo would have known that something was wrong if Baekhyun told him. He could have done _something_ if only Baekhyun talked to him. Baekhyun should have talked to _him_ instead of having searched for company. He doesn't want to be angry, especially not at Baekhyun, but he can't help it and, right now, he knows he has the right to be.

 

Baekhyun found a replacement.

 

A _replacement_.

 

For him.

 

While he had been so busy pouring life and soul into what he believed was for the future they both wanted, the man he loved had been seeing someone else. Baekhyun had been touching someone else with those hands... kissing someone else with those lips... and letting someone _else_ make love to him.

 

 _‘How?... How?!’_ Kyungsoo finds himself painfully holding back a sob. _‘How can Baekhyun do this to me?’_

 

Is it because he often missed calls and fell asleep in the middle of those that manage to connect? Is it because he isn't as vocal about being in love? Has he become too careful with his private life that protecting what he had with Baekhyun became a fact so hidden even from Baekhyun himself, too? But... Baekhyun has always known these things about him, hasn't he?

 

He might not have said it enough, but he never lied about it. It might not have been in the form Baekhyun wanted, it definitely hadn't been in the form everyone else expected, but he had loved Baekhyun all the same; as much as he could, whenever he could.

 

He supposes that Baekhyun forgot. That's easier to accept, albeit by only a tiny and torturous margin of bitterness, than to think that Baekhyun doesn't know him that well, after all. Had it been wrong of him to believe they were in love?

 

Everything he knew about Baekhyun and the things he believed about the two of them are suddenly lies now.

 

"Don't do this," He tells himself after he has forced himself to swallow the pain in his throat. He releases a shaky sigh and wipes the wetness forming in his eyes. "Don't cry."

 

But he can't stop, and he can't tell which of the droplets his tears are and which ones are from the tub's water when he hides his eyes behind a palm. He just knows the water is hot and so are his shut eyes; that everything hurts. His chest hurts so much. The ache in his heart hurts the most.

 

Do Kyungsoo doesn't cry. But Kyungsoo loved someone and having loved them hurts. Being betrayed and consistently lied to hurts.

 

If this isn't something worth crying over, then he doesn't know what is.

 

As soon as someone in the relationship thinks _‘I'm so tired of this_ ’, then accepts every ‘ _I can't do this anymore_ ’, and begins to believe each of the _‘I don't want to do this anymore’_ that comes afterwards… it means things are over, doesn't it?

 

It's over now, isn't it?

 

(Yes, it is.)

 

It's over, no matter how hard he tries. No matter what he does. No matter how unfair it is.

 

(Maybe he shouldn't have been just syrup when Baekhyun has always adored strawberries and cream.)

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Kyungsoo tries to forget this when he tells Baekhyun to wait; when he tenderly whispers in his boyfriend's ear and resists the desire to kiss him so that the whole country knows they're both unavailable.

 

It's the one thing he really wants to do right now, to let Baekhyun know that Baekhyun is still the man his own eyes adore. Not simply because the eyeliner in Baekhyun's eyes makes the man in front of him even more stunning, but because he still _is_ in love with Baekhyun who he knows is going to say goodbye very soon. He wants to make the most out of whatever time left there is for 'them'—to kiss Baekhyun, to hold Baekhyun, to love Baekhyun—but he knows he shouldn't.

 

No one is supposed to know about them, so he doesn't. Instead, he reminds himself he already had his chance. He already used it and now it's gone.

 

"Wait for me," he whispers again as he squeezes Baekhyun's hand in passing and they exchange a couple of small smiles as nothing more than good friends from similar industries.

 

While he walks down the red carpet as stoic D.O., he steals glances from Baekhyun. It's a habit he formed from a long time ago, looking at Baekhyun. It's one of the few things that hasn't really changed about him.

 

There are so many other stars in the room, so many other pretty faces. Everyone gathers to catch a glimpse of him in his crisp black suit and tie. He can have anyone he wants, D.O. can have anyone he wants, but Dyo only wants the beautiful man in the corner of the lobby.

 

Once upon a time, he had been a shy little boy who could only admire someone so bright from afar.

 

Kyungsoo is convinced that it's love when he's surrounded by all of these stars and yet, despite the heavy pang of pain in his heart, the little boy inside of him still looks at Baekhyun like the man is both the sun and the moon.

 

Baekhyun means so much to him, more than his words ever manage to help him express. He avoids thinking about how ironic things have become and about how much he means to Baekhyun now in return; if he's as big as the sun or as small as a pinprick light of a distant star; if he's even a part of Baekhyun's vast sky at all. He continues to look at his boyfriend's direction and smiles, even if he drowns amidst the flashes of light and the glamour that transform the crowd into another sea that insists on keeping them apart.

 

 _‘Look at me,’_ Kyungsoo hopes to tell Baekhyun while he begins to wonder about the exact point in their relationship where everything began to sink. _‘Look at me again.’_

 

Once upon a time, the sky loved him like he was every star.

 

_Please look at me._

 

He was the moon and the sun, too. The sky loved him like he was the great, big world and the rest of the magnificent universe.

 

 _Why don't you look at_ just _me anymore?_

 

The cameras go wild, wanting to have the best shots of the most anticipated movie of the year's cast. He chases away the afterimage of lights and strangers' faces in his eyes. But, when he blinks and he opens his eyes again, he sees the man he can't help but despise.

 

He catches a glimpse of Zampano the very moment that the man arrives. The sight all but chars itself in his memory. There he was, the man who ripped Kyungsoo away from his place in the sky’s eyes and wrenched his world apart, and Zampano was clearly looking for someone—

 

And Kyungsoo loathes the man, even more, when the cameras continue to flash, some of them having found another face to exploit.

 

_Click. Click. Click._

 

 _‘Don't look at him,’_ Kyungsoo finds himself praying but his smile completely falters as he watches Baekhyun's eyes flit towards the red carpet. _‘Please, don't.’_

 

_Don't look at him anymore._

 

_Don't go to him anymore._

 

_Just look at me._

 

_Look at me!_

 

He doesn't know why he did it or what he hoped to achieve, but he remembers feeling cold. His icy hands were clenched and his blood boiled while he began to yank Baekhyun away from the crowd; away from the man who was looking for Baekhyun; far, far away so they don't meet and Baekhyun doesn't leave him.

 

His grasp turned into a grip. He was dragging Baekhyun, he knew, but something in him had already snapped. He was numb.

 

Everything just fucking started to hurt. All he could think of was how unfair everything was; of how, just months ago, he was a man making a living for the boyfriend who loved him and waited for him to come home. _Just_ months ago, they were in love and he was _so_ sure that Baekhyun loved him.

 

What happened?

 

What changed?

 

When?

 

Why?

 

Why did Baekhyun look for someone else?

 

Why wasn't he enough for Baekhyun?

 

What could Zampano give that he couldn't? That he hasn't yet? What made _that_ man better than him?

 

Kyungsoo simply doesn't understand how Baekhyun can love him, look at him like he put the colors in the world, and then stop. He doesn't understand how anyone can suddenly stop being in love. What he _does_ understand, though, is pain, both his own and Baekhyun's when Zampano finds them.

 

He knows anger, too. Anger, bitterness, and jealousy, and he recognizes them all in the eyes of the man who is supposed to only be just his substitute.

 

Zampano is just a host. His substitute. Just someone who fills the lonely gaps he doesn't know he's been leaving behind but—

 

"Ch-Chanyeol—"

 

Baekhyun doesn't call that man Zampano. His boyfriend doesn't see a mere host.

 

"You're not going after him," Kyungsoo warns as he grabs his boyfriend— _his boyfriend_ —before Baekhyun can run outside and turn himself into a scandal.

 

"Don't go after him," He repeats, voice tight and eyes starting to sting when Baekhyun keeps struggling in his grasp and crying and exhausting both of their broken hearts.

 

And Baekhyun doesn't realize he's crushing two hearts, even more, when he looks at that man the way he used to look at Kyungsoo; when Baekhyun's reflex is to chase Zampano when the latter is gone as quick as he came.

 

Without even thinking, Baekhyun already chose to leave him.

 

"Please don't go after him," Kyungsoo begs, feeling like he can't keep the sharp pieces of his heart together but, at the same time, unable to entirely let the man in his arms go.

 

He realizes he's wrong. What he had just done is so terribly wrong, but—god. Just, god, what is he supposed to do with all these horrible feelings? All the frustration and yearning and anger and sadness are intricately tangled together into one huge and barbed mess.

 

"How can you do this...?" Baekhyun asks him, too tired to shove him away anymore; too inconsolable to look at him. "He didn't do anything to you. I did. I approached him. I slept with him. I kept saying I have you and I still continued to fuck him, so be angry at me, Soo. _Just_ me."

 

"You have no right to tell me what to feel angry about. Do you think that will make me feel better? Knowing that you willingly cheated on me?" Kyungsoo can't help but question; can't help but feel even more hurt, and his throat is burning and his eyes simply fucking hurt.

 

"You think it didn't hurt me...? You think I just threw 'us' away?" The eyeliner around Baekhyun's eyes have already smudged, and he would have wiped it and the tears if he were sure he won't make another mistake so soon. " _Yes!_  Yes, I _cheated_ on you. I cried and blamed and _hated_ myself for it because I loved you, Kyungsoo. I fucking _loved_ you, but would you have paid attention to me if I hadn't cheated on you? Would you have spared me even a _fraction_ of the time you've been spending with me if you never found out that there was someone else?"

 

"I would have! Had I just known you felt this way, Baekhyun, I would have! _All_ you had to do was to _tell_ me," he replies, feeling so numb and helpless and so, _so_ tired. "Don't hide things from me because _I can't read your mind!_ "

 

"And what could I have said that you would've listened to? That wouldn't have pushed you away from me even more?" Baekhyun still doesn't look at him, only sits against the door he had slammed shut and curls into a ball and sobs like a small child. "I understand your work, Soo. I know you love it and you'd do anything for your work, but what about me? What was _I_ supposed to do? When you're here, I always hope that I'd ﬁnally get to spend time with you. Instead, I wake up alone in the mornings. I don't even hear you say goodbye. You had no time for me, Kyungsoo, and it killed me. Every time you come home, every time— _over and over_ —it's just sex with you before you leave again."

 

"I come back to you. I _always_ come back to you, Hyun. Does that mean _nothing_ to you?" Kyungsoo inhales a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself; to lessen the pain, even for just a little, but he can't and he ends up raising his voice in suppressed rage. "You should have told me you were lonely! If you've been feeling hurt because of me, then you should have told _me_! You should have told _me_ something instead of going to _him_!"

 

"Was I supposed to tell you to stop doing what you love, then? To quit being an actor? Should I have said that, all this time, I've been jealous of your work? That all this time I've been jealous of something I couldn't _even_ touch?" Baekhyun screams and so much of him is red—his eyes, his cheeks—"You  _already_ left me once before, Kyungsoo. I couldn't stand it. I just _couldn't_ , and you leaving me behind _once_ just terrified me so much that I thought, if I ever were to make you choose... you would never come back."

 

"You still should have told me, Hyun..."

 

There are knives in Kyungsoo's chest… There are blades in his lungs, too. Needles in his eyes. Shards of a broken heart in his cold palms… All that feels like spilling out of him now used to be ﬂowers.

 

It was Baekhyun who made them grow; every ﬂower, with every smile, with every laugh, with every memory. Their memories used to be so happy… so wonderful.

 

Now, they're just the thorns that are stuck in his throat.

 

"If you really loved me, you wouldn't have searched for someone else. You would have never found someone else," Kyungsoo tells the man who is _still_ the biggest part of his life—the owner of his heart, the source of all of his past joys, the cause of his overwhelming sorrow. "If you really loved me, ﬁnding someone else would have been the last thing on your mind.”

 

Baekhyun loved him. Before. Once upon a time. Not enough to keep waiting for him, because Baekhyun found someone else.

 

He supposes he betrayed Baekhyun, too.

 

By not knowing. By exhausting himself one time too often that they couldn't even ﬁnd time to talk. By having let the little things pile up into bigger mistakes that are now crashing down upon them and hurting them both.

 

He betrayed Baekhyun, too, by not being the man he's supposed to be; by not having loved someone like Baekhyun the way someone like Baekhyun is supposed to be loved. Not enough. Not like this.

 

Maybe, it should have never been him in the ﬁrst place.

 

"Soo—"

 

"Don't. We have nothing to talk about anymore," Kyungsoo says, blinking—once, twice, thrice—just to get rid of the tears in his own eyes as he removes his own blazer.

 

This is the consequence of his absence; of his negligence; his stupidity. He's still so angry, but he's too tired now. Of this. Of them. As much as it is Baekhyun's, this is his fault, too, for hurting a heart so much that it would rather hurt itself than trust him again.

 

He takes the singer's ruined coat and replaces it with his own, draping it over Baekhyun who ﬂinches, shuts his eyes, and shrinks even more. He sees now just how much of Baekhyun he has changed; just how much of the boy he adored he has killed because of how much of a shitty and negligent boyfriend he has been.

 

"Where are you going?" Baekhyun still asks while clutching the warm fabric tighter around his own person, as if he were an anxious puppy about to be abandoned out in the cold and cruel streets.

 

How could he have not realized it sooner...?

 

A dog... Kyungsoo sadly thinks. Is that what Baekhyun thinks himself to be...? A dog to be loved and cared for only when it's convenient?

 

"Away."

 

_Somewhere we can't be together… somewhere I can't hurt you anymore._

 

Since Baekhyun can't bring himself to break things off with him then… he'll be the one to do it. Baekhyun can stop crying now.

 

"... Wait for Jongdae to come."

 

Because they're over now.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

There's a knock on the bathroom door, a frantic kind of knocking that startles him out of his stupor.

 

It's Jongdae when he cautiously cracks the door open.

 

"Baek," His best friend heaves a great and shaky breath upon seeing him, relieved for some reason, and immediately pushes his own way in before the door is locked again.

 

He's supposed to be happy to see Jongdae. But, instead... he feels numb. He feels strange.

 

Just... there.

 

"God... Baekhyun, what... What happened?" Jongdae asks, eyes scrutinizing him and making him feel so small.

 

It doesn't help at all that Jongdae attempts to wipe something from his face, only for him to jerk away as if his best friend had tried to scratch him. He doesn't mean it. He's ﬁne, but the look on Jongdae's darkens and it appears so frightening.

 

Baekhyun feels ashamed.

 

"We broke up," he answers softly, feeling the urge to curl in a ball again until the moment passes. He ﬁghts against it and, instead, takes the bag of new clothes in Jongdae's hand to change.

 

Afterwards, Jongdae just watches him wash himself using the lavatory. He scrubs his hands, his face, the mess of eyeliner and then, when he begins to wash his mouth, the look on his best friend's face changes again; it cracks, it breaks, and it reminds him of when Chanyeol found the bruises underneath his sweater; like he was something _wrong_ that people shouldn't look at.

 

He rips his own gaze away from the mirror, away from the reﬂection of himself and Jongdae's hurt expression, and spits whatever's left of the bitterness out of his mouth. Once, twice, thrice— _why_ won't it go away?

 

"What really happened, Baekhyun?" The man repeats, now beside him this time to stop him from aggressively scrubbing his skin raw. "What did he do?"

 

Baekhyun sighs.

 

He's tired. He just wants to rest. For a very long while.

 

"I've been cheating. He found out... then he broke up with me," Baekhyun replies and braves a glance at Jongdae, who is clearly shocked by the revelation, before he forces a self-depreciating laugh. "I deserve it this time."

 

"Don't give me that," Jongdae reprimands by reﬂex and, too soon, runs out of words. “No, Baek.”

 

"It's true, though..." Baekhyun insists as he looks down at his hands, at his own reﬂection, and feels himself wanting to cry when the events come rushing back. "I've been seeing someone else and he's... He's amazing, Dae. He's honestly so amazing, but it wasn't—we weren't... we knew it couldn't mean anything more. I didn't mean to—"

 

Because he had Kyungsoo. His boyfriend was Kyungsoo.

 

Chanyeol wasn't supposed to be anything else—not the name on his lips, not the laugh in his ears, and deﬁnitely not the ﬂuttering in his everything else—but it couldn't be helped.

 

Chanyeol wasn't just amazing. He was more than that. He's been so incredible and so patient and... he was a dream. If people could be dreams, then Chanyeol was it and Chanyeol was one of the sweetest there was, so much that Baekhyun simply didn't want to wake.

 

Ha. Entertaining him must have been a nightmare for Chanyeol.

 

He's a brat. He's demanding, insensitive, and so fucking insecure. He's everything that shouldn't ever belong with men like Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.

 

See?

 

He hurt Chanyeol. He hurt Kyungsoo, too. He hurt both of them.

 

Why is he like this?

 

Why the fuck is he so selﬁsh?

 

The tears start. One. Two. Then suddenly, there's so many. Too many, and he's sobbing in Jongdae's arms.

 

"I swear Baekhyun, the next time I see Kyungs—"

 

"No! No, no," Baekhyun waves his concerned friend off, fervently shaking his head, and washes his face again before he exhales, "I'm okay, see? Just.... C-Can you give me a ride home? Please...? I'll treat you. Just take me somewhere else."

 

So he can be alone. He wants to be alone.

 

Kyungsoo is leaving for Shanghai in a few hours. God knows when he'll come back; if Kyungsoo even comes back after all the things he said.

 

(What is he supposed to do with a house that big...?)

 

"Don't be like this. You're my best friend. Whatever you need, I have your back, okay?" Jongdae tells him, reminds him. "I have clothes you can wear. You can survive a couple of days with me, right? Will you stay with me?"

 

Baekhyun nods, a lethargic but deliberate tipping of the head. He tries to smile because Jongdae is smiling and it's too pathetic to suddenly break down, but he does. He starts crying again, silently sobbing and utterly desperate for the comfort he couldn't get from Kyungsoo and is now yearning from Chanyeol.

 

He can feel his skin crawling and his heart racing when Jongdae embraces him. He _doesn't_ want to be touched but he _wants_ someone to hold and it's so confusing. Everything is confusing.

 

He knew things were going to end with Kyungsoo. He wasn't in love anymore, not as much as when they ﬁrst started, but he still cared for Kyungsoo. At the back of his mind, he thought that maybe he could fall in love again, but the more he tried and the longer he stayed, the more it hurt.

 

"I loved him, Dae. I loved him for so long. I loved him," Baekhyun cries to Jongdae, whose hand he can feel patting and rubbing his back in consolation while listening and telling him that, _‘Yes, I know. Everyone who looked at you knew it, Baek.’_

 

"But I stopped."

 

He stopped looking at Kyungsoo.

 

He stopped feeling the butterﬂies and he thought it was just him missing a smile he hasn't seen in so long.

 

One day, he just realized he had fallen out of love with Kyungsoo and he had been so furious with himself. He didn't want to believe it. How could he just fall out of love with someone he loved so intensely? 

 

> _"If you really loved me, you would never have found someone else."_

 

Did he really not love Kyungsoo? He did, didn't he?

 

Jongdae wipes the streaks of tears from his eyes and cheeks, just hugs him until it doesn't hurt to breathe anymore, before Jongdae leads him out and sneaks them both to his car.

 

"Let's get you home ﬁrst, okay, Baekhyun?" The man says, rufﬂing his hair and patting his shoulder again, just a soft brush of ﬁngers and a softness in his own eyes.

 

"I'm sorry you always have to deal with this," Baekhyun mutters.

 

A little disappointment ﬂashes in his best friend's eyes because of his response, but Jongdae understands. Jongdae always does. A selﬁsh person like him doesn't deserve a kind friend like Jongdae.

 

"We're best friends," is Jongdae’s only reply, as if able to read his thoughts.

 

The man tucks him in shotgun before slipping himself into the driver's seat. The windows are tinted quite heavily and he's drowning in a hoodie that cannot possibly be Jongdae's, reminding him of the producer's unspoken hate for paparazzi. Everyone with a camera is too busy stalking the celebrities before they entirely escape from view to pay attention to the registered Mercedes wheeling itself out of the vicinity.

 

Meanwhile, Kyungsoo's blazer is at the back. Stuffed in a paper bag rather carelessly, but safe.

 

Baekhyun slumps against the closed window and stares at the lights outside. He glances at the mockery of the bag while he tries to blink the sting in his eyes away. There are certain kinds of pain, kinds that he'll never get used to, like the one that comes from ﬁnding the scent of the blazer familiar and remembering things that will never happen again.

 

He's certain that he bought that cologne. It's the one he got for Kyungsoo's three-hundredth day as an actor. His then-boyfriend cooked that treasured kimchi spaghetti recipe for dinner and got mad at spilled champagne. Neither of them knew how in the world they were going to insert cleaning the carpet in their busy schedules and Kyungsoo didn't trust him enough to do it.

 

Kyungsoo laughed it off, in the end. They both did. He laughed so much and they both were full of bubbles, butterﬂies, and soft touches.

 

Baekhyun remembers getting drunk in the sound of Kyungsoo's laugh, tasting champagne in every kiss, and feeling like nothing, absolutely nothing, could possibly go wrong. He was just so in love with Kyungsoo. His ﬁrst love is Kyungsoo.

 

Now, the only instance he can have Kyungsoo and love in the same sentence is when he talks about the past; the _what used to_ _be’_ s; the _I should have_ ’s, everything that led up to the goodbye and the rest that did not.

 

Goodbye.

 

That's something he never thought he would say. Not with Kyungsoo. Deﬁnitely not this way.

 

When you're in love and they love you back, you just don't think of how things will end. As much as possible, you'll do everything not to let it end. And, if things really have to, then you try your best not to let it hurt.

 

But it always hurts, even if only just the tiniest bit, because the kind of love that doesn't hurt at all, doesn't exist.

 

Baekhyun wipes his eyes and counts the minutes left until Kyungsoo leaves; recounts the hours he spent listening to Chanyeol's heartbeat and the moments he had been afraid to believe what he could see.

 

He still has the last selca Kyungsoo sent. It's the one where Kyungsoo is smiling awkwardly beside his own promotional standee. _‘Let's go to Shanghai together next time,’_ Kyungsoo had promised.

 

He can't look forward to it anymore… because Kyungsoo isn't going to come back to him anymore.

 

Kyungsoo isn't his boyfriend anymore.

 

It's over now. All those years they had together and everything between them, all of it was over now.

 

Baekhyun curses himself the moment he chokes on a sob and the acid spills over his skin again. He's already so, so sick of his own crying, but he can't help it.

 

No matter how hard he tries to stop himself, tears keep falling and smearing his cheeks. He hides his face and bites on his ﬁngers when nothing else works, just so the sound of his own shaky breaths don't reach his ears. He's not even sure why he's crying again.

 

Beside him, Jongdae's knuckles are white. Despite the anger, his best friend says nothing.

 

The only thing that Jongdae does is let him cry himself to sleep.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"Sorry! My place is a mess, but I promise the guest room is decent," Jongdae tells him, rather ﬂustered, as the man plucks what seems to be a dinosaur plush toy off the ﬂoor and jogs towards said room.

 

"I'm ﬁne with the couch..." Baekhyun mumbles while he watches his colleague disappear from sight and bunches the ends of the hoodie he's wearing in his anxious hands.

 

He feels ashamed for imposing on such short notice. He's sorry, too, because Jongdae is being forced to give the loft an impromptu clean-up to accommodate him when Jongdae is supposed to be sleeping because it's his best friend's day off. Maybe he should just book himself a hotel…

 

As if possessing a radar of some sort, Jongdae pokes his head from the room all the way down the end of the hall and startles him with a shout. "I have a guest room and you're going to use it!"

 

Well... there's simply no arguing with the producer when he's already there anyway. Besides, there's little left in him to even try to argue.

 

His eyes are swollen. There's an uncomfortable crick in his neck while the rest of him is simply begging to ﬁnally unite with a bed. Honestly, he can and will sleep on the ﬂoor if only Jongdae would let him and not make such a huge fuss about it.

 

He's just so tired.

 

So tired.

 

"Come on, I just ﬂuffed the bed for you," he hears Jongdae say before he feels a hand on his forearm.

 

The contact jolts him awake and his reaction surprises them both. He catches the frown on Jongdae's face, then it's gone and he's making apologies that the other doesn't want to hear. So, he silences himself, not really knowing what else is there to do or say.

 

The room is small. The bed is, too, unlike the house he shares with Kyungsoo.

 

 _Used to,’_ he corrects himself as he sits on the edge and continues playing with the soft sleeves of a hoodie.

 

"You can crash with me but I don't think you'd appreciate my snoring," Jongdae jokes, just to distract him.

 

Baekhyun takes the bait and forces a smile, "I don't think you'd appreciate me kicking you off your own bed either."

 

He doesn't really kick in his sleep anymore. At least, he thinks he doesn't. Every time he wakes, he just ﬁnds himself curled in a ball and clutching a body pillow close, so tightly, and he just knows he's the kind of person who sleeps much better when there's someone else beside him. Maybe, from the very beginning, he shouldn't have let himself use love as an excuse to cling onto someone who's used to doing things alone.

 

"I have champagne left. Would you like some?"

 

"No," Baekhyun immediately replies, feeling like his heart just clenched when it remembered the man he has associated with champagne—and red wine, and zinfandel, and rum…

 

A shot of whiskey. A glass of scotch. The highest note and the lowest of keys, every imaginable drink he has ever had and the most bittersweet song he has ever heard, was Do Kyungsoo.

 

And now it hurts. His chest aches so terribly like someone carved and scraped and scratched over it, over and over, until a gaping hole formed; just dug so deeply and left and never came back to ﬁll it again. It just aches, and aches, and it's the kind of pain that he knows he has to feel and will linger for a while more.

 

Is falling out of love one of the causes of moving on or is it only the ﬁrst step of a painful process?

 

"I'll just go to sleep," Baekhyun announces as he forcefully puts a stop to his thoughts and reaches for one of the pillows.

 

Jongdae watches him crawl further into the bed, posture screaming uncertainty and a hint of concern in his features. "Alright, I'll be in the room right across if you need anything, okay?"

 

Baekhyun nods in a manner that he hopes is reassuring because he knows his friend has already forgotten about the day-off and will most likely stay up all night for him without him even asking. He doesn't want to do that to someone who shouldn't even be dealing with his mess.

 

"Don't hesitate to knock," Jongdae says, looking like he's holding out on adding a _Please_ at the end.

 

 _‘Really too good for this world,’_ Baekhyun thinks when the man disappears from view again.

 

Soon, the guest room door makes a soft click.

 

Then he's all alone.

 

Alone with his thoughts. Alone with his regrets. Alone with the knowledge that, this time, all that awaits him tomorrow and the days after that, is an empty house because Kyungsoo isn't going to come back.

 

Kyungsoo isn't going to come home to him anymore. He is not Kyungsoo's home anymore. They're not lovers anymore and even less than friends now.

 

No more worrying about delayed ﬂights and being helplessly jealous over whom Kyungsoo kisses in front of a camera. No more practicing his cooking so Kyungsoo doesn't scold him about eating take-out and making out in the kitchen after lessons. No more pretending to have fallen asleep on Kyungsoo's lap so time can stretch a little longer and Kyungsoo doesn't leave just yet.

 

No more unrequited _‘I love you’_ s. No more second-guessing. No more doubts. No more of that.

 

Because he's free now. They both are.

 

He doesn't have to wait for things that can happen and cry about the things that don't. He doesn't have to wish Dyo never grew up and D.O. doesn't have to deal with his selﬁshness. They don't have to hide anything if there's nothing between them anymore.

 

Baekhyun inhales a fragile breath. He doesn't cry. He doesn't know what he wants to do and where to begin explaining what he's feeling that doesn't involve saying _‘It hurts, it just hurts a lot’_ over and over again and until he starts to hate the word _‘hurt’_ itself.

 

He wishes things could have ended differently; that Kyungsoo hadn't found out before he could confess; that Chanyeol hadn't seen him at his lowest point.

 

If he had never met Chanyeol, he would still be with Kyungsoo. He would have continued to be just the man who could only be with his lover after the cameras have stopped. Maybe he would have fallen in love again, but he also would have already lied so much about so many more things. That is, if he _does_ fall in love again, in that same way that the boy he was had fallen hard for the quiet boy who sneaked glances at him; for the shy boy who would save small cups of tteokbokki for him and pretend not to have given them; for the boy who sung his favorite love song and later broke his heart.

 

He loved without hesitation. Just gave his all and poured, and poured, and poured himself. He loved in a way that made even the ache gratifying; made the longing from the  _See you later_ ’s a little more unbearable but the _‘Welcome back_ ’s so much happier.

 

He was happy.

 

Then he wasn't.

 

Because Chanyeol came and he realized he wasn't happy; that the hurt was already outweighing the moments of comfort and what he thought was still happiness. He fell in love with Dyo, but Dyo was already buried in the past. He was in love with his memories... more than he was in love with Kyungsoo.

 

Now, the man he's in love with isn't Kyungsoo.

 

It's such a mess.

 

There's just so much to apologize for, so much that hurts, and Baekhyun just doesn't know where to start when he thinks of Shanghai, re-discovers the single picture of a sleeping Chanyeol that has been buried deep in his gallery, and ﬁnally ﬁnds the calls that Chanyeol made to him and never knew.

 

"What are these...?"

 

He feels his heart sinking while he counts how many times the name shows up, how many times Chanyeol was brave enough to call and risked getting his own heart broken even more. There were enough to let him know that Chanyeol missed him. There were more than enough to let him know that Chanyeol was just as desperate to talk to him, and that Chanyeol never missed a chance to try to reach him because the calls were made after his work as Zampano ended.

 

> _"I missed you."_

 

How could he have possibly missed Chanyeol's calls? 

 

> _"Does that bother you?"_

 

Was it... Was it Kyungsoo? 

 

> _"When am I going to see you again?"_

 

What else is there that he didn't know?

 

 _"I'm not in love,"_ Chanyeol had once told him, surprisingly uncomfortable in his own seat; as if being a man in love was one of the worst things to be.

 

Baekhyun didn't understand it when they had that conversation. He didn't understand how Zampano wasn't 'anyone special' when the name was special enough for Chanyeol to use.

 

It's Zampano who is in love.

 

He is young, earnest, and an easily jealous puppy. He's also stupid, reckless in a way that is unrelated to his thiefsmanship and, honestly, too generous with his unnecessary sacriﬁces. Zampano is, most frustratingly, really so stupidly in love with someone he's not going to have.

 

Zampano is an idiot for relying on his actions, hoping something will happen without him doing anything, and expecting a selﬁsh person like Yenicall to understand everything.

 

But is he, really?

 

Is Zampano the idiot? For recognizing he and Yenicall are bound by work and nothing more, and keeping himself from trying to be any more than a self-serving thief's accomplice until he couldn't anymore? Is Zampano wrong for not letting his feelings get in the way of his job for as long as he can help it?

 

No. Not entirely.

 

Because Zampano knows his boundaries and exactly where the lines are drawn, from start to ﬁnish; both as a thief and as a host, and no matter how intricately weaved the lies have become or how believable. Zampano is a liar when he needs to be, to himself and to everyone else, but he can't lie any better than Yenicall. Zampano is a terrible liar and an even worse liar to Yenicall.

 

 _Zampano_... When was the last time he called Chanyeol by that name? When did Chanyeol stop dragging him by the arm just to fuck and start embracing him by the waist for a kiss? When did Chanyeol stop being the dashing liar in the sharp burgundy suit and start being the man he affectionately called his puppy?

 

In that moment, Baekhyun realizes that—

 

> _"Chanyeol."_

 

—he hasn't called Chanyeol by any other name, has he?

 

> " _It's my name."_

 

Chanyeol isn't another actor. Chanyeol hadn't lied to him.

 

Every time Chanyeol would cling to him in bed until they had to part, every time he teased Chanyeol about the pink in the tips of those big ears and received soft kisses as vengeance, and every time he would catch Chanyeol staring in a way that was just too special to be from someone who was only doing his job—it wasn't a lie.

 

"I'm so stupid," Baekhyun laughs, pitying himself for a different reason now. "I'm so stupid."

 

Chanyeol couldn't love him. Not for as long as Chanyeol was still Baekhyun's Zampano and Byun Baekhyun was someone else's, but Chanyeol really loved him. From the very start, Chanyeol has been in love with him.

 

Everything makes so much sense now.

 

(How is it possible for everything to hurt so much more than it already does?)

 

 

 

❀

 

 

  
It's an ungodly hour of two in the morning when he hears Jongdae's footsteps making their way to the bathroom, just past the kitchen where Baekhyun has warmed some milk for himself.

 

He couldn't sleep. Properly, that is, and he didn't want to call his dreams anything else. He didn't want to admit yesterday happened. That's why he was unbelievably relieved to realize his dreams weren't dark and empty, that he hadn't really fallen asleep, and it was just the room's busted lights that led him to re-live the good and the terrible memories while he stared at a phone that has long died.

 

At some thankful point, Baekhyun sobered up. He has no idea how he managed to do it, but he was able to convince himself to snap out of it long enough to crawl out of the guest room. Now here he is, stirring the cream in his glass and wondering whether or not it was a part of some sort of routine for his best friend to grope walls and travel inside his own apartment with eyes closed like this, especially after he hears a mufﬂed crash—something falling—moments before Jongdae is back in the hall.

 

This time, the producer's eyes are squinted and Jongdae is rubbing the back of his own head.

 

Baekhyun watches the man walk past him, much like a lethargic zombie, all the way back to the master's bedroom. He doesn't expect for Jongdae to return so soon, and deﬁnitely not for Jongdae to start brewing himself a fresh cup of black coffee and then shortly pull up a chair across him.

 

"I bought beer."

 

"I saw. Pack of six," He replies, glancing from his glass to Jongdae's mess of bed hair. "You should go back to sleep."

 

"Nah. I'm good. Now is as good as any time to catch up with you anyway," the man replies while stiﬂing a yawn. "Don't mind me, I'm just very excited for work as always."

 

"You're a horrible liar," Baekhyun releases a small laugh.

 

"Well, I can't be that talented," Jongdae scoffs and slaps a palm over his own mouth for another yawn. "Eh~ So, how are you feeling?"

 

Bad. If he could just be honest. And at the same time, empty. He doesn't know what he's feeling, really.

 

"I've felt better," Baekhyun replies instead.

 

"I know just the thing!"

 

"What?"

 

"You up for some pizza?"

 

At the mention of pizza, Baekhyun pauses. It's insigniﬁcant, really, but for a second, he was trapped in the moment wherein he sat across Chanyeol for the ﬁrst time; met Chanyeol for the ﬁrst time.

 

"Pizza sounds nice..." He mutters before he catches the look on the other man's face and he reminds himself to nod. "Uhm. Yes. Pizza is great."

 

Jongdae doesn't look at him like he's being too obvious but also doesn't speak like he's one to be coddled.

 

Kim Jongdae doesn't coddle people. Kim 'Chen' Jongdae just gives them a little push, sometimes, and a lot of support the rest of the times. It just so happens that—maybe, deﬁnitely—Baekhyun needs much more support right now than he will ever feel comfortable enough to admit, so they sit in silence for what feels like a long while, with him drinking the last of his warm milk and Jongdae humming a tune that is vaguely familiar until the pizza has been re-heated and the coffee is brewed.

 

"What's he like?" Jongdae asks, sipping on black coffee without cringing at the harsh and awful taste.

 

"Who...?" Baekhyun replies.

 

He wonders how anyone can stand to taste so much bitterness, let alone to swallow it. But then again, coffee, to Jongdae, is very much what rum and strawberries are to him. He can live without either, but he doesn't want a life without both. He used to think life without both was no life at all.

 

"Oh, you know. The guy you told me was amazing."

 

"Amazing..." Baekhyun scrunches his brows.

 

Jongdae, too. For a moment, his best friend seemed convinced that he'd break down again. But he doesn't.

 

Ah.

 

So it _is_ Chanyeol.

 

"Oh," he understands the question now.

 

And he feels a little silly for taking longer to agree with the name his thoughts readily supplied to him.

 

"Well... the most important thing is that," Baekhyun can't help the tiny quirk his lips make at the memory that comes into mind. "He tells abysmal jokes."

 

This he has known ever since that ﬁrst time he had been in Chanyeol's car.

 

"How awful?"

 

" _Abysmal_ ," he answers with a tiny laugh.

 

That time, when Chanyeol had worried about him getting home safely and offered to take him home, he remembers having been nervous. But then Chanyeol opened his mouth again and, instead of beguiling words, something uncharacteristically ridiculous came tumbling out of his host's lips. It was... absolutely strange, discovering a new side to someone so seemingly perfect.

 

He thought it was charming, the contradiction between who Chanyeol appeared to be and who Chanyeol really was. He liked it. Just so much more than he should have.

 

"Let me hear one," Jongdae requests.

 

Baekhyun obliges and relays the ﬁrst of Chanyeol's many mind-numbing puns. He tries his best to imitate his lover's quirky manner of delivery and waits for his best friend to also call the puns horrible because they _are_. Their only redeeming factor is that they're so awful they're actually entertaining. He would say they're tolerable at best, and that's already being generous.

 

He really doesn't understand how Chanyeol can ﬁnd them so hilarious. He doesn't understand why he looked forward to hearing them anyway and why he ever asked Chanyeol to explain what made them so funny just to hear Chanyeol's voice and more of Chanyeol's quirky laugh.

 

Oh, but maybe he does. Maybe he just wanted to see more of Chanyeol's eyes and the way they brighten whenever Chanyeol laughs at himself. Maybe the way Chanyeol smiles just takes away the 'horrible' out of the joke and everything else.

 

Without even realizing it, Baekhyun is already telling Jongdae so much more about Chanyeol.

 

Like how Chanyeol sounds like an angry bear and has piles and just piles of t-shirts he wished Chanyeol would just replace with much better pieces, how Chanyeol can spend the day just watching movies and is unable to focus on anything else if it's a movie Chanyeol actually likes, and how Chanyeol enjoys cooking—Chanyeol likes trying out so many things—and somehow developed the habit of cooking too much for someone who lives alone.

 

"He must have a healthy appetite," Jongdae suggests. "Or maybe he just wants an excuse to eat with you."

 

"And why would he do that?" Baekhyun asks, denial and self-consciousness both at high.

 

His best friend has ﬁnished his own coffee at this point. He's pouring himself a second serving of milk. The bottom line is, they're both wide awake, sober and absolutely lucid enough to know what they're saying.

 

"I don't know. He just sounds like the smooth type of guy to me," Jongdae shrugs. "Ah, is he?"

 

"I... guess. I suppose he has to be, considering his line of work. He's actually quite shy, though. His ears turn pink when he's embarrassed. Oh, and he's tall—I think he's past six feet?—and yet he gets ﬂustered really easily and..." Baekhyun trails off, recognizing the strange look that his best friend is giving him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

 

"I don't know what you mean."

 

"Your face is doing that... weird thing."

 

"Ouch. It’s my face we're talking about here," Jongdae pouts and even pretends to clutch his chest for dramatic effect, then the producer laughs. "If you must really know, the weird thing is called smiling, Byun."

 

"And _why_ are you smiling that way?" Baekhyun questions with knit brows and an uneasiness in his hands.

 

"Because you're talking. Hearing you talk so much like this makes me happy. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but you haven't quite been yourself in a while," his good friend explains while pushing the plate of forgotten pizza towards him. "...By the way you talk about him, I can tell that he makes you happy."

 

What... What is he supposed to say to that? What else is he supposed to say other than—

 

"Yes. Yes, he does," Baekhyun admits, ﬁngers curled tight around the cup in his hands, and feels the guilt slowly creep into him again. He already knows what's coming next.

 

"How long have you been seeing him?"

 

Seeing. That's a nice way to phrase it.

 

He inhales, stares at the gentle swish of milk below him in order not to see any disappointment that may come to Jongdae, and quietly says, "Eight months..."

 

He cheated for eight months. Chanyeol cheated with him for eight months. He just threw away a seven-year-long relationship with his ﬁrst love for eight months of connection with a lover.

 

"It was just sex. We both agreed—we both knew it was going to be just about sex. From the start, he knew that I was in a relationship," Baekhyun explains, fully knowing it's too late; that the damage has been done and that the person who needs to hear his explanation doesn't want to see his face ever again. "He didn't say anything, he didn't try to convince me to break up with Kyungsoo."

 

Kyungsoo was there for him. But the rest of _before_ 's, Kyungsoo wasn't. And, really, there was just so much distance and absence that his heart could handle.

 

Jongdae's voice is soft when his friend speaks, "What did he do then?"

 

He swallows the painful lump in his throat before he answers, "He loved me. He just loved me."

 

Patiently. Silently. Without demands, without hesitation.

 

Chanyeol just poured and poured into every touch, every embrace, and every kiss.

 

And that makes it worse, looking back and realizing Chanyeol has been in love with him all this time while knowing that he was merely using Zampano when they began; that Chanyeol started out as Zampano the substitute, not a replacement; that Chanyeol was just there to make the loneliness more bearable.

 

Baekhyun still remembers the heartbreak on Chanyeol's face the moment the man tugged his sweater's sleeve down; the fury when he justiﬁed the rope burns' existence on his wrists. He couldn't explain and he didn't know where to start his explanations. He was afraid Chanyeol wasn't going to listen.

 

In the end, he ended up doing what he feared doing. He hurt Chanyeol. And he hurt Kyungsoo even more.

 

"Will you tell me what happened? In the premiere? Are you okay with telling me?"

 

What _did_ happen?

 

"Kyungsoo, he—he knew. He asked why I did it, and..."

 

> _"How could you cheat on me?"_

 

He watches Jongdae shift and bring a palm over his own mouth, as if thinking, but it's a habit Jongdae has that tells him there's something the producer wants to say or do. His friend's eyes are solemn. He can't stand to look at them.

 

 _'That wasn't Kyungsoo,’_ Baekhyun bites his lips, his words; in shame, in denial. There was no way that was Kyungsoo. How could someone so twisted be his Kyungsoo?

 

"You can tell me, Baek. As much as you feel like telling me, alright?"

 

_I know. Just._

 

How can he say it?

 

Jongdae urges him to eat some of the pizza because he hasn't had anything in hours, merely tried to sleep the rest of the day and the night away. It's bad to run a body only on guilt and whatever nauseating emotion there is.

 

"I honestly don't know what to say," Jongdae tells him. "I'm sure you're aware that it was wrong to cheat. I understand why Kyungsoo was angry, I really do, but… he was wrong, too. He hurt you, Baek, and he shouldn't have."

 

"But I hurt him ﬁrst..."

 

"Baekhyun, this... this isn't about who was ﬁrst, okay? Hell, if anyone should be blamed, blame me for having suggested for you to go out and meet someone else in the ﬁrst place," His best friend reasons, frustration marring his face. "My point is that, yes, you hurt him. He hurt you in return. Whether you intended to or not, whether he meant to or not, it doesn't matter who was ﬁrst. What matters is that someone got hurt. You both got hurt. Neither of you is happy about this. He is not okay. You are not okay."

 

"I'll be ﬁne," Baekhyun simply replies. At the back of his mind, he knows Jongdae is right. Jongdae is always right.

 

"I know," his best friend lets out a small sigh. "You keep things to yourself and laugh them off so you wouldn't worry everyone else. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but I'm not, Baek. Right now, you're not ﬁne. And I don't want to get used to knowing you're not okay and not being able to support you better."

 

"That's not true. You've been helping me so much already, Dae," He's not sure where this is going, but he's sure he can't bring himself to stop listening when Jongdae is being honest; when Jongdae has always tried to be considerate of him in all the years they've known each other.

 

"Baekhyun, I really... I don't want to get used to knowing you're getting better and better at just pretending."

 

"...I haven't been pretending."

 

"Lately, no. Last month, you were full of smiles, you know? It was great. Seeing you happy is always great. I like seeing you happy," Jongdae says, and then adds, after a while. "I'll have to thank him someday for the last eight months, don't I? You’ll let me, right?"

 

Baekhyun stops his ﬁdgeting and looks up from his empty glass. Maybe it's because it's only three in the morning and the milk is ﬁnally working its magic that the ache in his chest has dulled. It's dissipating a little more when he recognizes the small, curious curve that his friend's lips are making.

 

Jongdae is smiling at him again. It looks like the kind of smile parents give to their little children, a curve filled with fondness and representative of a quiet sort of promise to protect.

 

"You love him and his awful puns, don't you, Baek?"

 

His heart's answer is a skipped beat.

 

"I do."

 

It has taken him some time to fully admit it, but ﬁnally getting to admit it has lifted a great part of the weight off his chest. There is no other right way to tell Chanyeol his feelings than to confess in person.

 

He's in love with Chanyeol.

 

When Baekhyun falls asleep this time, he dreams of standing at the platform of a train station, one foot aboard and the other still rooted outside the train; of having to decide whether to board and leave with the person waiting for him or to simply stay. In the end, one of his hands lets go so he can properly hold both of someone else's.

 

(Dyo looks so heartbroken, but agrees to also let him go.)

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"Are you sure you want to do this today?"

 

"Yes," Baekhyun nods from the back seat. "If I let you keep me any longer, you'd turn into a dad."

 

"You'd be blessed to be adopted by the best dad in South Korea," Jongdae retorts with a smugness in his perpetually cheeky face.

 

‘I can't really argue with that,’ the singer thinks as they reach his building, remembering how big it really is; and, although not always the case, how lonely having an apartment so big can get.

 

He waits longer for his friend to ﬁnd space to park the Mercedes.

 

For some unknown reason, Jongdae doesn't trust valet. It's not as obvious as Jongdae's utter dislike for fanatics, but it's obvious enough when the producer cum coach discreetly avoids any opportunities to entrust anything he owns to anyone else. He supposes Jongdae trusting him enough to let him stay a couple of nights makes him feel special.

 

"I'm not going to take long," Baekhyun says just as the lock clicks and before the other man can suggest to accompany him.

 

He hops out of the car, Kyungsoo's blazer in tow, and hears Jongdae say, "I'll be right here then. Call if you need any help with the luggage."

 

He nods and then proceeds to the twelfth ﬂoor with the intention to retrieve his things. Or, at least, to take whatever he can bring with him.

 

He has to move out, right? One of them has to. And, since it's Kyungsoo who pays for most of the expenses anyway, it's just right that Kyungsoo gets to keep the apartment. He simply won't forgive himself if... if he robs Kyungsoo of a place to return to when the man already spends so much of his time dozing off at airports when he's not ﬁlming.

 

He hasn't been that considerate of Kyungsoo, has he? He tried, but not enough.

 

The thing with relationships is that, when it's going well, everything feels right; like you can take on the world and you have so many chances to be the person you want to be because you know someone believes in you. It's the happiest feeling to love. Redamancy is even better. It's always better, so much better, to be loved in return.

 

Baekhyun wonders, as the elevator stops on the twelfth and he steps out, whether Kyungsoo felt the same; whether Kyungsoo was aware that, although he may not love him now and not in the way he ﬁrst began, he loved him in the years they had. That his eyes could only adore one person at a time and Kyungsoo had been that person, or that he spent his time writing songs for Kyungsoo but couldn't let the world know.

 

He wonders if Kyungsoo has ever been afraid of losing him before and if it were a fear so great that it crippled him and kept him up at night.

 

The thing with relationships is that, when it goes bad, all the insecurities get bigger; like unruly waves that rise so high that they're enough to swallow villages whole. Distance seems to become all the oceans combined and time feels both too much and too little, too fast and too slow. You think it's just a little rainfall—the things that you forget, the not-so-right things that shouldn't bother you, the absolutely wrong things you don't know to explain—until you realize the rain isn't stopping and everything has contributed into forming one giant storm.

 

Relationships are one of the best things to happen in your life and the most painful way to say goodbye.

 

If given the chance, Baekhyun thinks, he will trade for a better and kinder ending with Kyungsoo. He will never trade their start, though. He won't ever trade the moment he fell in love with the boy with the big eyes and the heart-shaped smile, not for anything in the world.

 

He presses the code for their apartment and pushes the door open. There's a sort of numbing in his feet with every step. There's a strange feeling of both disappointment and relief, too, when he ﬁnds that everything is the same as he had left it.

 

Well.

 

Maybe not everything.

 

His circumstances have changed. He has said the things he has wanted to say, has heard the things he had once been desperate and terrified to hear, and has seen the ending of the story that he, once upon a time, wished would never ﬁnish. Without really knowing and without realizing it, he has already changed. They have changed.

 

He walks past the entrance and... he sees a man seated on the edge of the couch in their living room. It's the side that has always been kept soft and specked with his cushions; his unspoken spot for watching movies and falling asleep in. For a moment, Baekhyun doubts his own eyes and goes as far as to pinch himself.

 

With such a wistful look in his deeply brown eyes, Do Kyungsoo could be mistaken for a masterpiece of a brooding artist.

 

It's... surreal to observe the man like this, as if Kyungsoo were a still picture; a moment taken from the present and disconnected from the rest of the world. But then, even before the acting industry discovered him, intensity was already the word associated with Do Kyungsoo. Take an emotion, a passion, a concept—anything at all—and watch as Kyungsoo's eyes and lips breathe light and life into it.

 

Seeing Kyungsoo like this, oblivious to the world, makes Baekhyun understand why directors can't get enough of D.O.

 

"Why are you still here...?" Baekhyun asks, ﬁnally breaking the silence and announcing his presence.

 

As if broken out of a trance, Kyungsoo's rounded eyes widen in surprise, quickly traveling from the little red box on the coffee table to look at him.

 

Whatever tiny thing it is that the man's hands were playing with, it's now out of sight and tucked inside the former's pocket. It makes him feel both like an intruder and an outsider, Kyungsoo's apparent haste, and Baekhyun swallows the feeling of truly being unwanted now.

 

"Your ﬂight was supposed to be four days ago," he mutters, genuinely confused but afraid to make his voice louder.

 

Why are his eyes hurting...? Why can't he move? Why won't his body listen to him?

 

"I was just about to leave," Kyungsoo answers as the actor plucks something off the couch and stands without looking at him.

 

It's a passport, he realizes, and he recognizes what seems to be the plane ticket inserted in the holder. He notices the suitcase now too. It's the large wheeled one, letting him know that Kyungsoo will be staying for much longer in Shanghai.

 

"W... When will you be back?"

 

"I won't be. Not here, anyway," _Not to you,_ is what Baekhyun understands. "The apartment is yours. I've already ﬁlled the forms."

 

"I don't want it," Baekhyun blurts out and watches hurt ﬂash in the other man's face; feels a claw wrap around his own throat. "What I mean is that—it should be yours."

 

"I have no use for it anymore.”

 

"Where will you stay when you come back then? If not here, then where? I'm not taking this place from you, Soo."

 

"Then sell it. Rent it. Let your friends use it. It's up to you. It's you who lives in here."

 

"We. We live here. This is your home as much as it is mine."

 

Kyungsoo sighs. A tired sigh.

 

"It was, and now it's not anymore," the actor explains, as simple as that. "As much as I don't expect you to stay, don't expect me to return."

 

"Kyungsoo—"

 

"You don't have to say anything, Hyun. We're over now. Don't put up with me anymore."

 

He hasn't forgotten that.

 

He knew this would happen. Hearing it, having Kyungsoo tell him that they really are over, is merely conﬁrming everything that has happened to them and unfolding one of the many consequences of the actions they have taken. It's just that the words _‘I'm not coming back’_ hit him harder in reality than they do in supposition.

 

"You don't have to move out, but if you want to, I won't stop you."

 

‘You can't stop me when you're not here, anyway,’ Baekhyun replies in his mind as the man passes him by.

 

There's a whiff of that cologne again; a reminder of a joyous start. He's frozen in place and cannot feel his heart to be strong enough to look at Kyungsoo's retreating back. _Kyungsoo is not coming back._

 

"I didn't put up with you," Baekhyun says before he hears the beeping of the door. "It was _never_ about having to 'put up' with you."

 

Time stops.

 

So many words come to him.

 

There are so many things he can say right now—such as _‘I truly loved you’_ and _‘Being with you is still one of the best times of my life’_ —but what will that accomplish?

 

Even if he can do more than just stand there, with a body too afraid to listen to anything else but its own fear and heavy hands, what will words and actions do now than just tear the wound open even wider and delay it from healing? If he believed continuing to cheat was better than talking about it, then he doesn't deserve to choose which memories to keep. Most deﬁnitely, he doesn't deserve to stop Kyungsoo from trying to erase all of their memories—both the good and the bad—as if they never happened.

 

"I'm sorry," he ﬁnds himself saying anyway.

 

_For stopping._

 

_For not telling you._

 

_For falling in love with someone else._

 

There's only silence until he hears the door being pulled open, then he hears Kyungsoo's hoarse voice answer him with, "Take care of yourself, Baekhyun."

 

Only that.

 

Then the door closes... and Kyungsoo is gone.

 

Really gone.

 

Baekhyun releases the breath he didn't know he was holding and, only when he shuts his eyes does he discover the tears that were already there, seemingly with minds of their own and mourning over the ﬁnality of an ending. He sheds tears but doesn't let himself weep. Not anymore.

 

He hastens to their bedroom—just his bedroom now—and takes a few of his layered ensembles out of the walk-in closet. He doesn't think about the emptiness on the other side; about the space that used to be ﬁlled with black shirts and pieces of similar designs bought in all of their available colors. All that is left is too blue, too pink, too yellow— _too bright._

 

Baekhyun lets his eyes dry themselves, it doesn't take as long now. If only the rest of him could just stop this trembling because it's not helping and he's not letting himself be found a mess by a friend again. The sooner he shoves the last of his button-downs into his bag, the sooner he can go back to Jongdae and leave.

 

He has to go to Dream for Chanyeol.

 

He has to talk to Chanyeol.

 

(But what if Chanyeol doesn't want to see him anymore?)

 

 _‘No, don't think about that, Baekhyun,’_ He scolds himself. _‘This isn't_ just _about you.’_

 

> " _You don't get to decide about things like this by yourself."_  

 

That kind of thinking is what made this mess in the ﬁrst place. Each action is a decision, both lead to consequences, and the consequence is the small red box on the coffee table that is missing a ring; it's the plane ticket for Shanghai underneath it; it's another chance to run after the man who just left.

 

His mind is screaming numerous reasons for him to go back to what is easy and try to make things work again, but he has already decided. He's not going back to living like that, stuck in a routine and tied down by sentimentality, so he grabs the card key from his unlocked drawer and clutches it ﬁrmly even after he leaves, afraid of ever letting it go.

 

His heart chooses Chanyeol.

 

Baekhyun chooses Chanyeol.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Dream is still as charmingly misleading as he ﬁrst saw it. The cordial baristas in the ﬁrst ﬂoor's quaint coffee shop moonlight as hosts at night. Not all of them, but those that unabashedly stand out are also the ones with familiar faces.

 

Only the hosts throw him a smile and pay him more than quick and curious glances when he realizes that he's not supposed to be even in the ﬁrst ﬂoor. He was just in such a hurry to see Chanyeol that he walked right into the building and missed the elevator to the club's actual lobby. _Baekhyun, try harder to get it together, why don't you?_

 

"Lost?" A kind-looking young man asks Baekhyun, who hasn't been paying attention and was caught off-guard.

 

"Oh. VIP?" The man asks again, this time catching a glimpse of the token peeking out of the singer's grasp. "Do you prefer that I escort you upstairs or that I call your host here...?"

 

"N-no need. I'll see my own way up. Thank you, though," Baekhyun politely says as he quickly double-takes and heads outside for the elevator, only to ﬁnd himself being accompanied anyhow by the friendly barista who is now ﬁxing the grey beret on top of his own head and removing the half-apron around his waist.

 

"You really don't have to," he insists, but the other man smiles at him in a way that makes him feel like saying no is something too evil to do.

 

So... they stand there in silence, waiting for the elevator to come back down while he desperately ﬁghts against the urge to ﬁdget and play with his sleeves. He would bite and chew on his lip, it's a little more gratifying, but he remembers that Chanyeol hates the habit and frowns at it. He's not going to give Chanyeol the wrong idea by facing the latter with bleeding lips.

 

"It's my ﬁrst night in the lounge tonight," the barista, whose name tag reads Kai, tells him. "In the fourth ﬂoor, I mean."

 

Oh.

 

"You're a new host?"

 

"Yes."

 

Fourth ﬂoor. Gold-level. No wonder this guy's gentle smile is disarming; much like Zampano. And Kris, too, Baekhyun supposes, albeit in a very different way.

 

Kai must be attending to his real job now, if... the nonchalant unbuttoning of the dress shirt is any indication. They get to pick their schedule, Chanyeol told him once; schedule and clients. Still, it doesn't quite explain why any host would start changing clothes in the presence of a stranger, even if they were a patron.

 

"Sorry, I talk when I'm nervous," the younger man says. "I've just been oriented about the token system and I wanted to know more and, well, you... seem nice."

 

Baekhyun laughs uneasily. "Nice? Me?"

 

"I suppose. You haven't politely told me to get lost yet so—" Kai shrugs between explaining himself and giving the older man as much personal space as possible when the empty lift ﬁnally arrives. "You're someone's favourite. That must mean you're someone incredible, right?"

 

"Are you practicing your ﬂattery on me or are you just this awkward around clients?"

 

"Both? Is it working?"

 

"Miserably."

 

Baekhyun watches the host smile, this time with much more conﬁdence; as if an entirely different person. He wouldn't doubt that curve being a smirk, really, if he hadn't seen the puppy look ﬁrst.

 

"You haven't batted an eye at me at all..."

 

Baekhyun makes a half-shrug as he embeds himself in a corner, taking every inch of space he can afford for himself away from the younger man. It's not that he thinks Kai isn't attractive, he even knows quite a few people who would readily burn a bank account for someone like Kai. It's just that... Kai isn't Kyungsoo and deﬁnitely not Chanyeol.

 

Nowhere near at all.

 

"I already found my dream," he explains truthfully, as cliché as it sounds.

 

He already found the best in Kyungsoo.

 

He found his perfect in Chanyeol.

 

Honestly, being this smitten by Chanyeol doesn't make sense to him either.

 

(But then, he wouldn't have it any other way.)

 

"I better look out for your host, then," the fake barista chuckles and throws a knowing glance his way. "You must be pretty satisﬁed to be taken, huh?"

 

"W-what?" Baekhyun is the one ﬂustered this time, having been caught off-guard by the last statement. How can this man talk so freely? To a stranger, no less?

 

"You're a favourite. Having a favourite is pretty much like committing, isn't it?" Kai asks, curiosity evident in his own brown eyes and seemingly oblivious to the other's unease.

 

Is it...?

 

He... supposes that the token established _some_ sort of commitment. It deﬁnitely established a connection between them; a sense of ownership, both to someone who was already taken and someone whose occupation discouraged being in a relationship.

 

Even as a favourite, Baekhyun still had no say over Zampano's schedule. It's not like he knows who Zampano's other clients are and whether or not Zampano actually does just talk. He knows the other bachelors do sleep with clients, regardless of the latter's status of privilege is, and being Zampano's favourite did make him more selﬁsh. The token made him feel like he belonged in Chanyeol's arms and that Chanyeol was supposed to only spoil him that way.

 

However he interpreted it, the attention made him believe it was his right to keep Chanyeol, to be with Chanyeol, whether it was in the lounge or in Zampano's bed because Chanyeol let him be selﬁsh and rewarded him for what little amount of possessiveness he could show. For a reason so clear to him now, their passionate nights weren't just borne out of the need for gratiﬁcation and a plea to forget, but of words they couldn't say; of his own jealousy over a host's numerous imagined lovers and Chanyeol's over a real relationship.

 

"Would you give your token to someone who pays you well?" Baekhyun asks in return.

 

He thinks about all those times he fought sleep just to keep talking to a man with big ears; all those times Chanyeol 'made up' for making him wait in the room upstairs when it was he who kept taking away the puppy's free time.

 

"I would, but why would I? That's one year of someone potentially making my life easier or harder. Besides, favourites don't necessarily pay more," the host answers. "The most sensible thing to do is to give it to someone I'd actually want to see during my off hours, isn't it?"

 

"Why is that…?"

 

"We can pick once every year. Tokens can't be bought and not every client knows they exist, so really, it's just... reservation, I guess? It's like saying 'Just look at me while I'm at work' and 'Be with me when I'm not'," Kai explains, catching the unfolding confusion in the singer's face and becoming confused as a result, too. "But I'm new so I could be wrong...?"

 

The elevator chimes the common greeting before Baekhyun can respond, signaling their arrival at the VIP ﬂoor. He steps out of the lift, walking ahead of the host he left inside without hesitation, and could only be stopped from entering the lounge by one of the bouncers.

 

"I apologize for the trouble, but Zampano is still in session."

 

Oh.

 

"You cannot enter the lounge without a host. Will you book a different host tonight?" Baekhyun immediately shakes his head at the suggestion, almost repulsed by the idea. "Understood. Will you be willing to wait while I inform him you're here?"

 

"Can't he come in with me? He just needs a host to get in, right?" Kai inserts himself into the conversation, even daring to sling an arm around the older man's shoulders to prove a point.

 

The stoic bouncer appears to bite back a groan at the sight of the young man. First night in and Kai is already getting on people's nerves, it seems.

 

"I'll just wait for him in his room. Will you tell him that for me?" Baekhyun requests, waiting for the guard to nod, before he removes the hand dangling over his shoulder and makes his way back to the other elevator.

 

There's no other way to reach the bachelors' ﬂoor without running into more people. He understands why Chanyeol let himself be booked during their nights but it doesn't take away the hurt or the tiny seed of fear planting itself in his chest.

 

What if he's right? What if Chanyeol doesn't want to see him? What if Chanyeol doesn't—

 

"Hey, tell me your name!" He hears Kai say—shout, really—alongside the sound of footsteps.

 

Baekhyun turns around to politely tell the little wolf to leave him alone.

 

Instead, he catches a glimpse of his own host walking through one of the lounge's doors. The woman beside Chanyeol is _gorgeous_ —the epitome of true Korean beauty—and, despite knowing it's Zampano smiling by her side before she is escorted to the exit by someone else, makes him just a little bit insecure about himself. It's his ﬁrst time seeing one of Zampano's other clients; ﬁrst time realizing how truly plain he looks against the chaebols and the models his host meets with every night.

 

There's simply no competition, but still—

 

" _You look wonderful,"_ Chanyeol told him before.

 

Not once. Not twice.

 

Rooted in place, Baekhyun hopes he can still listen to Chanyeol say it. He hopes that they still have a next time.

 

He watches Zampano pause by the doors to listen to the bouncer. His heart stammers when the host's plan to return to the lounge seemingly disappear, and it begins to beat so much faster once he meets Chanyeol's eyes. He senses the cold in the air then—his host never did like ﬁnding him in corners with other people—and recognizes the frown that spreads itself on Chanyeol's face.

 

Baekhyun can tell Kai ﬁnally gets to piece things together after Chanyeol has made his way to them, takes Kai's hand off his arm, and questions, "What are you doing with my favourite?"

 

My favourite.

 

Not client. Not _just_ a client.

 

"O-oh. Hyung, I was just—"

 

"I got lost," Baekhyun intervenes as he touches his host's sleeve, uneasy about the tension and his new acquaintance's nervous habit. "He accompanied me back here."

 

Chanyeol glances at him, then at Kai, seemingly convinced that what has just been said is partly a lie, and graciously chooses to let it slide.

 

"Thank you for bringing him back here safely," the man curtly responds, lips relieved of the frown but is still without a rehearsed smile.

 

Baekhyun admits to being scared by this. He's also a bit regretful that Kai has to be chased away this way, but this is not the time to be thinking about anything else other than the opportunity to talk to Chanyeol, who is now watching him play with his own sleeves with dark eyes now that they have been left alone.

 

His host stops him with a hand over his wrist, touch scathing, before he hears, "What are you doing here?"

 

"I wanted to talk to you."

 

"What about?"

 

"About what hap... about last time," he hesitates—over the likely possibility that Chanyeol thinks his long sleeves are for hiding new bruises and the way he feels his skin crawling—and inhales as he forces words out of his mouth. "I have things to explain to you."

 

"You don't have to. You were right, I should mind my own business. The past weeks have made that clear to me."

 

"It's not what you think. It wasn't—"

 

"'Not what you think'? What am I supposed to think? I'm just your host, after all," Chanyeol interrupts. "I'm not your boyfriend. We crossed some lines, but there is no us and there never was."

 

"Where are we going?" Baekhyun asks when he is led inside the elevator, unable to say what he wished to say ﬁrst because the truth, and doing his very best not to let Chanyeol notice that he wants to cry and transform himself into a burden, hurts too much in that moment. It hurts to hear it from Chanyeol.

 

He watches a palm hit the button for the parking, rather forcefully, before the hand around his wrist releases him, then Chanyeol ﬁnally responds, "It's late. I'll drive you to the station."

 

"No, I'm staying," He insists as he reaches for the panel only to be stopped.

 

"Baekhyun," Chanyeol starts with a sigh dangling on his own lips; without the heart to look at him. "This is me telling you not to come here anymore."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

“It means what it means. Don't come back here anymore.”

 

Baekhyun remembers being told not to leave, not just once or twice before; remembers being told he was missed and how it showed in the kisses they shared at midnight, with sore hearts and tangled legs.

 

He missed Chanyeol in ways he couldn't comprehend while Chanyeol always had to be satisﬁed with just looking at him whenever he had to leave. Holding back because it's not his place to make demands; because he's scared of the consequence of saying he's lonely—the feeling is something he wishes he didn't understand so much, maybe even better than anyone else.

 

Is this kind of goodbye what Chanyeol really wants?

 

"Look at me when you say it," Baekhyun answers, sliding his hand down to his host's colder palm; tugging it, holding it, and pleading, "Look at me and say it."

 

And, because Chanyeol has had years to master the art of lying, his host easily repeats, "Let's not meet anymore."

 

The hesitation comes in obliging, the part where Chanyeol should meet his eyes. The same part that convinces Baekhyun that Chanyeol doesn't want this either. It's just that, right now, the pain is still too raw to admit otherwise and say anything else, so he lets Chanyeol lie to his face.

 

He lets Chanyeol pull his own hand away from him and break eye contact as soon as the words are out. He reminds himself of how cruel he has been to Chanyeol, all this time, and he convinces himself that the least he can do is to let this happen. The least he can do is to give Chanyeol more time.

 

"I'll wait for you then," Baekhyun says, biting his lip as he continues to stare at the other man's turned back. "This time, I'll wait for you."

 

It's just right that he'll be the one to wait and chase after Chanyeol this time, isn't it?

 

The elevator comes to a halt, and so does his host. The mirrors give him a glimpse of the conﬂict on Chanyeol's face, brows knit closer together in confusion and in something else he can't decipher, and a ghost of a scowl weighing down the corners of the latter's lips. There is no reply from the younger man, only the heaviness of silence and the easier wish to have things back to the way they were before as they near the familiar white BMW.

 

Then they both stop.

 

"You can't... You can't _just_ show up here as if nothing happened. You can't just _say_ you'll wait for me like nothing happened. That's not how it _works_ , Baekhyun," Chanyeol sighs heavily, head hung and ﬁsts clenched right after he has slammed the door to the driver's seat shut again. "What else do you want from me? How much more do you want to hurt me before you're satisﬁed?"

 

"That's not what I want. I _never_ intended to hurt you, Yeol. Please believe me," Baekhyun replies, feeling pinpricks in his eyes because the guilt is back but he knows that it doesn't even come close to his host's pain. "Let me explain—"

 

" _What_ ** _else_** _is there to explain?_ " Chanyeol roars, making him ﬂinch, then the host is shaking his own head and visibly trying to bite back the next words, but it's just too much, too soon. "You're _already_ in a relationship. I'm _just_ a host. If there could be anything between us, _anything at all_ , it was sex and we had it. It already happened."

 

Before he can respond, the younger man holds out an open palm without looking anywhere else but his own outstretched hand. He looks at the host, confused and then scared when the latter refuses to look at him and only says, "My token."

 

Baekhyun pretends to not have heard it, to not understand what it means, but Chanyeol makes it crystal clear when he speaks again, "I want it back."

 

"I just want to talk,  Yeol," the singer appeals, staring at the grim expression on the other's face. "Please, will you listen to me ﬁrst?"

 

He doesn't want to give it back. He doesn't want to let Chanyeol go. That's what giving the token back means, doesn't it? That he's giving up? That Chanyeol wants to start forgetting because he has already given up so he... he has to give up on Chanyeol, too. But—

 

"I want it back, Baekhyun," Chanyeol repeats, his voice raised.

 

Chanyeol only raised his voice once before this. Chanyeol never avoided to look at him. Chanyeol never... never kept his distance, not like this.

 

 _‘I don't want to give it back,’_ Baekhyun thinks, screams, and swallows the painful lump in his throat while he keeps himself together. He's not going to burden his host anymore. He's not going to cry about this, and deﬁnitely, _deﬁnitely_ , not in front of Chanyeol.

 

"I don't want to," he answers, because what else is there to say? He surprises himself that his breath doesn't catch when he keeps on talking; when he knows he's not saying the right things but he absolutely refuses to let silence answer for him. "Please, ask anything of me, just not this."

 

Chanyeol is silent for a few more moments before the host lowers his hand, not for Baekhyun to cling even tighter onto that tiny sliver of hope, but for Baekhyun to watch it go up in ﬂames as the younger man sighs once again, "Then we have nothing else to talk about. From now on, I'm not your host and you're no longer my  favourite."

 

"What?" Baekhyun freezes, stuck in place by the coldness he's seeing on Chanyeol's face, before he's watching a back being turned to him without even being spared a glance.

 

 _Move!_ He shouts at the betrayal of his own body and feels his chest constrict. It hurts. So much. _What are you doing?_

 

"Wait! Chanyeol!" Baekhyun's scream comes out as nothing more but a louder broken cry because his voice is suddenly hoarse and it hurts to speak.

 

He can't let Chanyeol just leave. He can't let it end like this. Not like this.

 

"Please, Chanyeol. Please listen to me ﬁrst—" He begs from the other side of the host's newly-locked car door, desperate to be heard; to get Chanyeol's attention.

 

He knows Chanyeol can see him. He wants Chanyeol to listen. Please. Just this once, even just for one last time.

 

"You'll never see me again, Chanyeol! I promise you! Please."

 

There's warmth on his cheeks and his eyes feel hot. His chest is burning yet his hands are cold. Damn it, he told himself he wasn't going to cry.

 

How pitiful does he always have to be for people to look his way? To take him seriously? Why does he always end up making all the wrong decisions...? 

 

God, he hates himself. Chanyeol doesn't deserve to see him like this, if Chanyeol is still even looking at him at all right now. He doesn't deserve Chanyeol at all. He knows this, he believes this, and yet—why can't he just let Chanyeol go?

 

Why does he still insist on knocking and crying against the man's window when all Chanyeol wants from him now is to unlatch from the BMW so the latter can drive away and never see him again? Why the fuck does he chase everyone and make a greater, fucking fool out of himself?

 

Because it's Chanyeol. He's in love with Chanyeol and Chanyeol deserves everything he can give, even if it'll never compare to what he has received all this time; and even if it's an overdue confession or a multitude of explanations and apologies as one ﬁnal goodbye.

 

He owes Chanyeol this much. He owes Chanyeol so much more. Chanyeol deserves even more than just so much more.

 

Chanyeol beeps his horn—angrily, obnoxiously—fed up, perhaps. Maybe Chanyeol just wants to get this over with. Maybe they both just want this to end, but Baekhyun is terriﬁed that they really might be wishing for two different endings.

 

It hurts. It hurts so, so much when Chanyeol ﬁnally drives off, obviously in a hurry to get away, while he crumples on the cold cement and wipes the tears away from his painful eyes.

 

Maybe once upon a time, both of them wished for the same ending. He is sure the ending he wants is with Chanyeol. He wants his happily ever after to be Chanyeol but, maybe, just maybe, all this time he had just been fooling himself. Maybe there aren't enough happily ever afters for everyone. Maybe he's one of those people who will never have one, because he knows that not everyone who chooses gets chosen back; not at the right time; not at the same time.

 

Maybe, all that Byun Baekhyun really deserves is a pretty house under his name and nobody to welcome him home.

 

 


	8. Yenicall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the very start, Chanyeol already knew the ending that foolish characters like him in stories like his would get. It's just that, he can't stop himself from wishing. He so badly wishes that he's wrong.
> 
> (Even thieves, no matter how dishonorable, wish a happy ending for themselves.)

 

 **Suho hyung (10:01pm):** _Where are you?_

 

 _‘Home’,_ Chanyeol doesn't reply; doesn't even spare the text a second glance before he shoves the phone back into his pocket.

 

After he has slipped into his indoor slippers, he only drags his feet further into his empty house. He rolls his shoulders to try and rid himself of the ache, thinking that it was his manner of driving and grip on the wheel that might have caused it, but he later admits that, no matter how well he massages his sore muscles, it's not going to do him any good if it's his heart that is hurting.

 

 _‘You've told worse lies than that,’_ he thinks to himself and scoffs at the dull ache in his chest and the lonely spaces between his ﬁngers.

 

Just an hour ago, his hands were full. With spite. With bitterness. With the softest ﬁngers and the gentlest touch.

 

He felt ﬁre and ice at the tips of his own ﬁngertips and he had pulled his hand away, both in fear of being consumed and what he could do. Seeing Baekhyun after _weeks_ of missed calls, unanswered texts, and the cruelest reminder that he was hopelessly in love with someone who was already taken, just destroyed whatever paper-thin sense of normalcy he was trying to trick himself into believing he could achieve.

 

A lie often told becomes truth, after all, and turning lies into truths is his expertise. He might as well add denial next to lying since the lies he has told himself are the ones he has practiced so much over the past months. He's excellent at being a fool, too.

 

He can't say the truth. He falls in love too easily. He's great in bed and even better at getting himself hurt.

 

Makes for a rather pathetic resume as a lover, doesn't it?

 

"Lights," The host mutters as he enters his kitchen, squints slightly at the sudden brightness, and heads for the fridge to retrieve a can of beer.

 

He hesitates for a moment, remembering that he made a promise not to resort to drinking for the next time he felt terrible, before he makes a grab for the bottle of leftover vodka from the back and searches for a shot glass. He convinces himself that _that_ promise shouldn't matter right now. Why should it? He left Dream and came home in a hurry to get away. He's doing this for himself.

 

One way or another, he'll force himself to forget, whether it's just for a few hours or one full night.

 

 **Suho hyung (10:33pm** **):** _Don't you know your_ _favourite_ _is here?_

 

Of course he does. That's why he left. Baekhyun is the reason why he _had_ to leave.

 

Chanyeol lays the phone down on the table in front of him and downs a volatile shot to begin burning the memory of Baekhyun in tears; the sound of Baekhyun begging right outside his car window; the way he yelled in anger as he drove away, torn between speeding and going back.

 

He couldn't stand it, _absolutely_ couldn't stand it. He didn't want to be in the same space as Baekhyun. He couldn't possibly _be_ with Baekhyun when all that would come to his mind now is the spiteful image of Baekhyun pleasuring the _real_ boyfriend somewhere anyone could walk in on them.

 

It was D.O.

 

The goddamn boyfriend was _D.O_. all along.

 

Chanyeol releases a small depreciating laugh while he pours himself succeeding shots. What kind of competition can a mere _host_ pit against an established actor like D.O.? Who in their right mind _wouldn't_ choose someone like D.O.?

 

 **Suho hyung (10:58pm):** _Where are you?_

 

It's so tempting to reply, to say he's home and he won't go back for as long as Baekhyun is still there, but it's Suho hyung and he ﬁgures he can be a selﬁsh little shit for now and just make up for it tomorrow. His schedule is vacant anyway because it's supposed to be his and Baekhyun's night. After he gets his token void tomorrow, all of his Wednesday nights will be free to spend with someone else.

 

After the fourth shot, Chanyeol pulls at his black dress shirt's collar, popping a button open, and removes the burgundy suit that feels more and more suffocating the longer he's in it.

 

Normally, at this hour, he would have Baekhyun eagerly kissing him in the hall of the bachelors' ﬂoor with hands tangled in his dark hair; until their lips are red and he feels himself become even more selﬁsh for wanting the sight of a blushing Baekhyun writhing in a bed all to himself, enough to have impatiently whisked Baekhyun into his room a number of times before. Every time, all the time, Baekhyun would smile at him, caress his face, and just kiss him again. In those moments that they were supposed to pay attention to where they were, he would be too focused on the softness on his mouth and in his arms; on not letting Baekhyun fall. How ironic it is, for him to be the one to have fallen in the end—little by little, more and more; irrefutably.

 

He was so careful with Baekhyun, but he should've been much more careful with himself.

 

 **Suho hyung (12:00AM):** _Don't forget you're fully booked tomorrow._

 

He makes a depreciating snort at this because it's easy. To be a good liar, you have to keep track of the things you've said. And it's both a blessing and a curse that Chanyeol easily remembers many things; the little things; the only one to.

 

He would give anything to forget, even just for a while.

 

The alcohol kicks in and he feels shittier. He's not quite sober but he's not drunk _enough_ , so before he can do something stupid—like ask Suho hyung if Baekhyun already left or if his senior could drive Baekhyun home safely instead—he abandons his phone with the last shot of vodka and walks to his bathroom.

 

The man in his mirror stares back at him with red-rimmed eyes and a deep crease between his brows. There's a line on his lips that he can't determine whether it's a frown or a scowl because his face is pale and he feels so empty, but at the same time, there's only pain in his chest. The pain is in his throat and in his eyes and whatever it is that keeps falling out of them.

 

His reﬂection looks right back at him, as if begging him to make the aching stop, and he thinks the word ‘reﬂection’ has never been so apt before, because it's exactly what he sees on this cut mirror… the face of a broken heart and the man trying to fool himself that it's not his.

 

It hurts too much, he doesn't even get to decide whether he cries or not, he simply does. He won't remember passing out in the hallway or blindly searching for his car keys to go back, but he will never forget what it's like to feel so terrible that not even letting himself cry can ease the pain. No amount of crying and yelling—at his own stupidity, about the stubborn aching in his chest over someone who is supposed to be _just_ three hours of one night instead of _every_ day of _every_ week—can make him feel better.

 

Chanyeol knows that, one day, he will forget this. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after tomorrow, but he will, and every morning will be one morning closer to forgetting. Until then, he'll just have to let it hurt and make a living out of pretending, just like the man Baekhyun is in love with.

 

(No matter what he tells himself, at the back of his mind, he can't help but ask: if Baekhyun was going to fall in love with an actor, then why couldn’t that actor be him?)

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

"Good morning."

 

He can tell the receptionist is surprised to see him sign in on an early Thursday morning.

 

There are few things to do in the club when the lounges are yet to open unless you're a favourite whose host practically lives in the ﬁfth ﬂoor, so it doesn't surprise him when he's asked to conﬁrm before being let inside the gold lounge. The side glances of people who have seen Baekhyun without him last night are readily ﬂung to the back of his mind, if not simply ignored. Maybe he's reading too much into it or maybe he's just being reminded why he's one of the best-selling liars in Dream.

 

Once inside, it's Suho and the new guy by one of the pool tables, one-sidedly discussing manners—or what seems to be host etiquette—inside and outside of the lounge. Chanyeol pays them no mind, not really feeling getting into character quite yet, and heads straight for the bar. That is, until his senior utters his name, loud and clear.

 

"Zampano," Suho motions for him and he obliges, saving his overdue rebellion for after he hears the upcoming request.

 

The tone being used on him already tells him that he cannot say no.

 

"This is Kai," his senior says as the man stands between him and their lounge's newest host, whose casual appearance sticks out like a sore thumb, and places a ﬁrm hand on both their shoulders. "Kai, I believe you're familiar with Zampano?"

 

The boy stammers and tries to laugh it off while Chanyeol nods in wordless acknowledgment, recognizing the person in front of him to be the cheeky kid who accompanied Baekhyun last night. Maybe it's a petty ﬁt of seniority, maybe it's an irrational twinge of jealousy, but he lets this younger man be intimidated by him even more and there is a highly negligible amount of guilt to be felt about it. Objectively speaking, he is a kinder and a _much_ more reasonable sunbae than, say, Kris, and more lenient than Suho. Whether he's kind on his own, however, is a different story.

 

"I would like for our Kai to learn from you. Just show him how we do things around here. A few weeks will do."

 

'Kai' takes a notably deep breath, making Suho—who misinterprets the unspoken hostility as mere strangers' tension—laugh and eliciting a less genuine smile from Chanyeol. The new maknae is easily nervous, his senior tells him. Although it's a marketable trait, it contradicts the image Dream wants to build for ‘Kai’ and therefore needs to be conditioned into something more ﬁtting, and what better way to accomplish this than to let the kid model after the one who set the standard for his type?

 

It doesn't sit quite well with Chanyeol, knowing Dream is training a new Charming type and wants another Zampano, but he agrees anyhow. Agreeing to be the maknae's mentor just doesn't necessarily equate to getting along with him outside of work.

 

"Great, I knew I could count on you," Suho concludes with a smile of relief before the man pats the boy's shoulder again and provides the latter an opportunity to escape scrutiny.

 

Kai trips over air on the way to the door.

 

Chanyeol immediately bites back the scoff but the frown manages to slip.

 

Clumsy. Tactless. Can't lie.

 

What is Dream's management thinking, promoting _that_ kid into his lounge?

 

Moments after Kai disappears through the doors, his senior ﬁnally makes an offhanded comment, "Someone's in a foul mood."

 

"Is that a guess?"

 

"Is it a lucky guess?"

 

"No," Chanyeol replies, turning to walk back to the bar and reserve the wine that tomorrow Friday night's client hinted to him last time.

 

"A friend fetched Baekhyun last night," Suho says, before adding, as if in mere afterthought, "Just thought you would want to know."

 

He does. The unintentional pause in his step means _he does,_ and he knows it's some sort of bait; a gateway to force a conversation out of him. He expected this talk to happen much later. Rather, he expected his day to unfold without hearing his favourite’s name. If he could, he would avoid everything that reminded him of Baekhyun.

 

"That's good," Chanyeol answers through gritted teeth, because in that single compelling moment, he was so close to asking for more. He _wanted_ to know more.

 

For someone who's supposed to embody the Gentleman type, his hyung cruelly says nothing else after that and only leaves him alone with his own thoughts. Suho offers him no reprieve from the questions borne out of the well-intentioned revelation. They come so fast, one after another.

 

Whose friend was it? Whoever they were, were they really just a friend or were they a man with big eyes and a heart for lips? Was that person the one who comforted Baekhyun in his place or were the tears quick to dry after he left?

 

For how long did Baekhyun cry? What for? Why would Baekhyun even come back here...?

 

Just to rub it in his face?

 

Just to crush what's left of his heart?

 

Did Baekhyun expect their perverse relationship to continue...?

 

Was D.O. to be loved while he was just someone available to be fucked?

 

Is that it?

 

_Isn't that it?_

 

Chanyeol wasn't in a 'foul mood' when he started the day, not even when he was looking at the boy whom Baekhyun lied for. Maybe this is just his emotions getting the best of him right now, maybe his head isn't quite where it should be right now, but when it comes to Baekhyun, he suddenly doesn't know what's real from not; what's right from wrong. He can't differentiate the lies from the truths.

 

Remembering all the times he lay in bed with Baekhyun—how happy each time made him, how happy he thought he made Baekhyun—makes him realize how blind he truly was; how much of a huge fucking fool he was. He believed he was a good liar but, as it turns out, the better liar had been Baekhyun all along.

 

"I would like to have my token void," Chanyeol announces, each word like venom to be spat and rid from his system.

 

Suho stops then, even almost losing grip of the billiard stick in his own grasp. The stare the man gives him very shortly is that of pure disbelief and he is fast to discern the disapproval that follows. It's just the two of them and the four walls of the silent lounge; there is simply no way that his words will not be heard.

 

"Your token is yours to give and to take, but may I suggest that you give it more thought?" the older host warily suggests. "If it's something that can still be resolved, then I highly encourage that you exhaust all other options before resorting to this."

 

"Why are you trying to dissuade me? Baekhyun is _my_ client, not yours," Chanyeol snaps.

 

It has to be done. He has to do this while he's still sure and determined about _something_ , and that _something_ is forgetting. He has to cut off everything he can now, absolutely _everything_ that connects him to Baekhyun, because he knows himself and he knows his resolve only lasts for as long as he doesn't see the man responsible for why his chest fucking hurts so much.

 

As long as there's a way to keep Baekhyun in his life, he's just going to keep hoping. He's going to hope and hope means he's going to cave in because he's a _goddamn fool_ and so before that happens, before he sees Baekhyun again and makes an even bigger fool out of himself, he's going to burn all the bridges he can. Every single one.

 

"Once it's void, there is no calling Baekhyun a favourite," Suho willingly overlooks his slight outburst in favour of a reminder. "All the rights and access your token has reserved him will be revoked and he will cease to be your favourite. Is that what you want?"

 

Is that what he wants?

 

Baekhyun will return to being just another one of his clients; just another name and a face to be remembered until their agreement expires. The room with his name on it will stop being a place full of their secrets. If he really ceases to be Baekhyun's host, then he's just a stranger and, later on, just someone to be buried in the past.

 

No more guilty kisses. No more envious wishes. No more desperate prayers.

 

Is that what he really wants?

 

"Yes."

 

 _No_.

 

"Yes, it's what I want."

 

_Of course, it's not._

 

But he's convinced that taking away what made Baekhyun special to him in the ﬁrst place is what he needs. He _has_ to put a stop to this—because Baekhyun is and has always been someone else's dream. He has absolutely no right to be angry or heartbroken over something he already knew from the very start.

 

Suho is dissatisﬁed with his answer but nods to him, in the end.

 

No one can stop him anyway, not when Dream is all too happy to unshackle him in exchange of his time. A bachelor without a favorite is a host only committed to money, after all. It's the kind of bachelor he used to be and the quality of a host that Dream loves about him. Other clients can shower him with ‘love' while Dream can pump herself with more money again. Everyone wins.

 

Chanyeol knew nothing good would result from ever crossing the line, and now he has his broken heart to prove it and remind him of it.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

The next time he catches a glimpse of the man he no longer calls his favourite, it's another Wednesday night and he belongs to a muse whose lips are invitingly pink and whose slim waist seem to have been made solely to be held by his hands.

 

Her smile is sweet, her laugh even more so, and it takes away some of the bitterness on Chanyeol's tongue after the lounge's doors close. When he calls her his princess, the words are too easy to utter because she's young and much more innocent than he is. When she calls him her prince, however, it takes him a second to say yes and an even longer moment for him to even consider believing what he just said; to accept being someone else's anything.

 

He knows this night is as far as it gets. Tonight he's paid to woo a rich man's little girl with words for ﬂowers. He already knows she's the type to be impulsive and spoiled, she’d think of him at night and nag her father to bring her back here to see him. He would only break her heart even if she ever were to offer him a Lamborghini for one night.

 

Kai keeps shooting dirty looks his way when the session is over, especially after she is brave enough to pull Chanyeol down for a kiss on the cheek. They both know it means nothing because the ﬁrst thing Chanyeol does, after the client is gone, is to wipe the cherry lip balm off his cheek, however little its trace—just to get rid of the lingering feeling of someone else's lips on his skin—but it doesn't stop the younger host from making a disgusted face at him. Definitely, he cannot stand Kai while the only reason Kai is learning so fast and so well is so that they don't have to be mentor and apprentice any longer than they should be.

 

"Don't let anyone else catch your face like that. It only works for the Cold City Boy type," Chanyeol advises, taking advantage of his senior status as he ﬁnishes what's left of the champagne in his glass and motions for the other to pour for him.

 

Kai ignores the words, but being maknae forces him to oblige begrudgingly to the subtle command—he's getting better at masking his distaste, if Chanyeol could say so himself—before the boy glances pointedly at the doors, then at him.

 

"You didn't escort her out," the younger host points out with a certain look in his eye; almost accusing, if Chanyeol thinks too hard about it. "Why?"

 

Why, indeed. No matter how irksome Kai's face is, he disregards it for the sake of the harmless query, to which he provides a non-committal shrug and an equally as harmless reply, "I didn't have to."

 

She was smitten enough as it is. And that stolen kiss on his cheek was much more than he would ever willingly give. Zampano doesn't touch clients.

 

Chanyeol won't touch someone else.

 

"You don't want to go out," Kai speaks again, deﬁnitely accusingly this time.

 

Chanyeol doesn't give his colleague the pleasure of a reply.

 

Kai should learn to mind his own fucking business before the boy ends up like him. Besides, it's a pointless conversation that doesn't hold any sort of relevance in any way, so he just sips on champagne, begins to consider the tempting option of swapping the liquor at his disposal for a harder drink, and makes himself more comfortable on his unspoken turf. At least, as comfortable as being seated where he can steal glimpses of the lobby every time the door opens lets him be.

 

Baekhyun is right outside of those doors tonight, waiting for him, patiently and unnecessarily waiting for him again. It's all too easy to identify the small ﬁgure in the lobby to be his former favourite. Every time someone leaves or enters the lounge, the man looks inside with hope and a prayer in those tired eyes.

 

 _‘Just go home’,_ Chanyeol wishes he could say as he looks away every time there is a sliver of his former lover providing the bouncer some company. _‘Go home and don't come back.’_

 

With how Dream has pumped his account and schedule full of other patrons, as if forcing him to make up for the time he spent with a favourite, it doesn't surprise him to know that it's not the ﬁrst time Baekhyun has done this. Not the ﬁrst, not the third, and tonight deﬁnitely won't be the last. He doesn't understand what his ex-favourite is playing at right now by simply continuing to wait for him, night after night of wordless rejections and the blatant cold treatment.

 

The man can just force him out. It's a Wednesday night, Zampano is still matched to Baekhyun, and, as far as Dream is concerned, Baekhyun is a consenting adult who can afford his hours. All it takes is a ﬂash of a cheque and he is renewed property with another owner.

 

 _"I'll wait for you,"_ Baekhyun had said, and maybe the man meant just that. Just waiting until he's ready to come forward on his own; to talk, not as a host to a customer.

 

Baekhyun is being stubborn about this, surely, and Chanyeol is, too.

 

The only way they're going to have a conversation is for Baekhyun to come inside the lounge or for him to go out; for them to ﬁnd some sort of common ground. There is no place for Baekhyun in Dream without his token—no access to his room or this lounge—unless Baekhyun hires someone else's service for the night. He despises this possibility, the mere thought of it, but the wound of his heart and the bruise on his ego makes him despise his own options, as well, and himself even more.

 

He's not thinking so well about this, but he has done too much of thinking over the past eight months and he just wants to stop. He needs a break; away from Baekhyun, away from whatever he deluded himself into thinking there was ever a _them_ in the ﬁrst place.

 

Chanyeol reminds himself he gets paid to play a part, the roles his customers want him to fulfill, and to look the part of the best dream they have never even thought of wanting; not to think, so that's exactly what he'll do.

 

He's not going to think.

 

It was an open secret that Zampano picked a favourite, that the favourite was deﬁnitely Baekhyun, and that they couldn't stand to be apart. Everyone knew it and now they also know that something changed. They want to know if that _something_ is something wrong, because he's _here_ entertaining client after client while Baekhyun is out _there_ by himself, and whether it's a conﬁrmation of the rumors about the two of them—that he broke his own rule; the things that happened between them behind closed doors; how complicated their relationship really was.

 

No one can even begin to understand this. No one— _no one else_ —will understand this. He himself doesn't even understand what has become of him and Baekhyun. It's just terribly complicated and hurtful and twisted, from the beginning to the end.

 

(Has it ended?)

 

Tonight's Wednesday shift ends a little past 1 AM instead of midnight and he's surprised to realize Baekhyun is still there, in the very same spot that he left the man before he signed in.

 

There's an undeniable brightness that vanquishes the shadow on Baekhyun's face once he emerges from the lounge. He's suddenly too aware of the doors that are shut close behind him. It’s as if it were just the two of them there, with his former favourite smiling as the latter brushes something off his shoulder and ﬁxes his lapels.

 

The last time they've been this close seems so long ago… the contact makes Chanyeol both so weak and livid. He's exhausted but suddenly, he's not. He doesn't understand what he's feeling.

 

"You've worked hard," Baekhyun says almost inaudibly, making the silence brittle and turning the moment into something so utterly fragile.

 

There it is again. Fire and ice. A burning in his throat and a longing in his empty hands.

 

Chanyeol feels… _trapped_.

 

He's stuck because of Baekhyun's fingers, because of Baekhyun's stare… he's simply trapped by the instinct to lean closer until he shortly realizes what his body wants and is trying to do. He wants the space between them _gone_ , but he'll also give _anything_ to be anywhere else.

 

"Leave. I want you to leave. Right now," he manages to say without his voice raising or breaking; without his breath hitching even when he notices Baekhyun's smile wavering. "Or I will be the one to leave."

 

_Just go._

 

Baekhyun's face scrunches, just a little, but at this point, he knows the man too well to know when Baekhyun is upset. That his words are making Baekhyun's eyes well up with tears and that, right at this moment, Baekhyun is biting the inside of his cheek and stopping himself and blinking the acid in his eyes.

 

Once more, Chanyeol lets the pain speak for him, "You're just wasting your time on something that might not happen."

 

A part of him believes that Baekhyun deserves this. A bigger part of him believes that Baekhyun doesn't, that neither of them does and that he should walk away from this now if he's not going to bridge the gap between them. He wants Baekhyun _gone_ but he also wants Baekhyun _here_ , where he knows no one can harm this man in any way because he’ll be with Baekhyun.

 

He doesn't want to _be_ with Baekhyun but he _wants_ Baekhyun to be with him and it _doesn't fucking make sense._

 

 _Nothing_ makes sense to him anymore.

 

Chanyeol wants to not want Baekhyun, who hasn't dared to step even closer to him; whom he hasn't touched or kissed for what feels like too long to be _just_ two months; whose hand reaches to smooth the crease between his troubled brows before stopping halfway, joking, "What if I stop and you start to miss me?"

 

 _‘Who says I don't miss you right now?’_ is the reply that comes to his mind and he doesn't dare to voice out. Instead, he clenches a ﬁst behind him as he utters under his breath, "Leave. Now."

 

He watches Baekhyun's lips quiver, the smile becoming nothing more but a practiced line on a such a beautiful face. The man he used to call his favorite inhales shallowly and quietly, then nods.

 

"If it's what you want," his former lover says, audibly but weakly, with the slightest trembling in his voice. "But I know you waited for something that might never happen, too, so no matter how long, no matter what you say... this time, I'll be the one to wait for you. I'll keep waiting for you until you're ready to talk, Chanyeol."

 

Baekhyun leaves because he said so and he didn't let himself stop him, even when he knew Baekhyun wanted to say something else. Even when he knew Baekhyun was _this_ close to crying in front of him again. The next moments come too fast and matter too little after his eyes begin to yearn for the man he loves.

 

When the lift lights up as indication that Baekhyun is truly gone, Chanyeol ﬁnally permits himself to breathe and slaps a palm over his own mouth and run it through his hair; as if to gain a sense of leverage, a hold on reality, and force himself to sobriety because that wasn't him. This isn't him.

 

He reminds himself that, for as long as he wears Dream’s suit and calls himself a host, his name is Zampano. It is Zampano who is in love, hopelessly in love, but the biggest part of him argues that Zampano doesn't actually know what love is; how foolish it makes a person and how soul-crushing it really is. Because if Zampano _does_ , then he wouldn't ever talk lightly about it. No one who has ever fallen so deeply in love would.

 

Zampano isn't the one in love, he doesn't love Baekhyun.

 

Park Chanyeol is, and he still is in love with Byun Baekhyun.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Chanyeol changed his number.

 

His schedule changed, too, which he supposes can bring him as much good as it does bad. While it provides a much welcome distraction, he cannot help but be wary of Dream's leniency on him, her rather not-so-subtle favouritism when it comes to reservations after schedule revisions, and the fact that he managed to keep the same Friday slot, the only one, open for one of his most treasured clients. Nonetheless, the point is, really, that he hasn't seen Baekhyun in three weeks and it's both intentional and not; both relieving and disheartening.

 

He has Baekhyun's number blocked and yet he still keeps his old phone. He has it locked away in a drawer that he knows he will forget about. He can't throw it away for reasons he partly doesn't know, can't fathom, and won't admit. It's stupid to entertain the tiny hope that Baekhyun will text him about the next biggest movie to hit the theatres, about kids whose passions burn brighter than their muscles that are set aﬁre, or just about anything, when he's the one who made sure Baekhyun wouldn't be able to reach him.

 

These days, he ﬁnds himself missing Baekhyun's voice more than anything, but just the thought of Baekhyun is still enough to cause an ache in his heart. He's still afraid of seeing Baekhyun again. He's scared of what he would hear, see, and know next.

 

What if Baekhyun is only chasing him to make sure he keeps mum about D.O.? What if... what if Baekhyun got hurt because of him? But also, what if—what if this is just a game to Baekhyun? To see how long it will take for him to kneel and surrender? To break someone like him down?

 

So many _what if’_ s and too many _maybe_ ’s and they are all driving him crazy, yet the worst of the lot is still this: _what if he never sees Baekhyun again?_

 

Despite his unreasonable rage and bitterness, he knows he's much more afraid of the end; of admitting, _fully admitting_ , that they never even really started. Stories like his reach the last page with a happily ever after for one prince and his princess, not two, and deﬁnitely not for the knight in armor that is often buried and forgotten long before the book closes.

 

Chanyeol is terriﬁed of many things, this he has only realized over the past months, intensiﬁed by the recent weeks. He never should have crossed his boundaries. He should have stayed away, not close his eyes to the temptation of a man who was already someone else's.

 

But Baekhyun was a sin he wanted to commit—with words, with his hands, on his skin—and he hadn't at all expected to worship Baekhyun outside of his bed.

 

He hadn't expected to actually fall in love.

 

He's scared of love now. He's scared of Baekhyun because he knows he's still in love with him; that he might never forget Baekhyun because someone like Baekhyun is impossible to forget. He knows forgetting takes some time, but maybe... just maybe, he hasn't made any progress because forgetting really is the last thing he wants.

 

It's a Friday night and Chanyeol belongs to a lady in a ﬂowing halter-neck white dress and stars in her eyes.

 

Dara is all that is pure and beautiful to a boy like him, and he has always adored her enough to save the ﬁrst of his Friday hours for her. She's the ﬁrst ever client to have been matched to him; who taught him much about patience and prudence, and, after two years, he ﬁnds that she still is one of the most beautiful sights to be worshipped by his eyes.

 

Needless to say, he likes her.

 

Very much.

 

There's just something about Dara noona that makes his heart swell in excitement; that makes him feel like a teenage boy again every time he sees her smile because of his jokes, regardless of how ‘dumb’ they are. She's the ﬁrst to have heard of his repertoire of puns as a host and loved him even more for it, and he swears he truly loved this woman as the ﬁrst ridiculous crush he had as a boy on his way to becoming a man. He still does, in that mellow way that the sentimentality of past loves continue to linger long after the infatuation is over, and it makes him forget that he now shares the same schedule with both the seniors he looks up to and utterly despises.

 

Suho is teaching his own client how to play billiards at the far end of the lounge, which explains the older man's renewed interest in it a couple of weeks prior. The other senior, however, is nowhere to be found, which is just as well. Dara noona's delicate eyes deserve better than to see the human equivalent of an ass, Chanyeol thinks.

 

"It's the ﬁrst time that your schedule changed. Has something happened? How are you?" Dara asks him out of the blue, with a smile playing on her perfectly made lips.

 

"I'm perfect, as always. Friday is still my favorite day of the week," he answers, taking note of the softness of her hair while she's beside him and leaning against his shoulder. He doesn't get paid to show his ﬂaws, after all.

 

Noona only makes a playful hum at this, a sound that informs him she doesn't quite believe him and that she ﬁnds his shamelessness amusing at best. He makes his own chuckle before he takes the unﬁnished glass of red wine she hands to him. She's a light-weight and is mindful of her limits, much like Baekhyun.

 

Wait—he pauses momentarily, brows scrunching—Baekhyun?

 

"Zampano?" He hears Dara's small voice say when the doors to the lounge open.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Suho card a hand through his crown of blonde hair, a reﬂexive movement made whenever the man perceives trouble brewing. Maybe there is, because Chanyeol can feel his blood beginning to simmer after he recognizes the new arrival.

 

It's Kris.

 

And the temperature plunges when the Dream's staple for the Bad Boy type doesn't enter alone and he meets his ex-lover's eyes.

 

His gaze is confusion bordering on fury, clashing against the silent kind of desperation in Baekhyun's as he sees the man make a step towards him and he ﬁnds himself immediately detaching from the booth, he sees no one else, but before he could really stand, the singer has already been pulled backwards; trapped by another man's arm around his waist. With Baekhyun in tow, Kris sends a self-satisﬁed smirk his way.

 

Chanyeol doesn't fully understand what's happening, or where he should even begin to comprehend, but he knows that—whatever this is—he doesn't like it.

 

"Hey Dara," the douchebag makes a half-wave towards them, blatantly disregarding the utter distaste displaying itself on Chanyeol's face while casually removing an arm to let it slither around his former favourite’s shoulders.

 

Baekhyun ﬂinches at the gesture—Chanyeol knows Baekhyun just did because he _knows_ when Baekhyun is uncomfortable—and he scowls at the sight of Kris touching his former client, leaning too closely, and leading the singer away to the bar; to where Baekhyun can watch him sit beside one of the country's most beautiful women and without him being able to return the favor.

 

Chanyeol cranes his neck to catch Baekhyun looking at him, a ﬁgure of a man made much smaller and meek by Kris' height and a ﬁrm grasp.

 

His ex-lover looked so happy to see him, but now there's an open letter in the man's eyes that he cannot read because Kris is suddenly pressing a mouth against Baekhyun's ear, whispering something, before Baekhyun averts his own gaze entirely.

 

 _‘No, don't listen to anything that fucker says,’_ Chanyeol clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath, blinking away the afterimage of Baekhyun having stared at him so forlornly until his senior began his game.

 

Why? _Why?_ Of all hosts that Baekhyun can use to enter the lounge, why _Kris_?

 

> _“They were going to match me with Kris.”_

 

The piece of shit even dares to throw another triumphant smirk his way.

 

Instead of initiating a confrontation that would surely wreck the night for everyone else in the lounge, Chanyeol plants himself into the sofa once more and forces himself to swallow this turn of events. He reminds himself that tonight, he belongs to Dara. He belongs to the woman beside him and his job is not to humor the numerous curious and expectant glances being thrown at him right now, but to give all of his attention into treating Dara like a queen. His queen.

 

So he pushes Park Chanyeol to the back of his mind and reminds himself he answers to Zampano.

 

He tells himself that he's not Baekhyun's host tonight.

 

He's not Baekhyun's secret lover anymore.

 

He should mind his own business.

 

And he _will_.

 

In the best of ways, Dara is still his ﬁrst love, and every smile, every laugh he makes because of her is undeniably real. She's someone to be admired, adored, and worshipped with loving eyes, never to be touched or sullied. She deserves nothing but the gentlest touch and the most heartwarming words, the very things he knows he's not meant to give.

 

Just an hour ago, he couldn't take his eyes off the woman sitting beside him. There are only a handful of other things that can bewitch him, that's the testament of how time moves so fast with her, but tonight... it doesn't.

 

Suddenly, it doesn't.

 

Time just ticks so agonizingly slowly and an undeniably huge part of him could hardly wait for the night to be over.

 

"You're distracted," Dara notices.

 

She doesn't mean it to be a bad thing but it still ﬁlls him with a sense of disappointment that spreads thickly over the layer of suppressed anxiety. He immediately dispels it with a disarming smile, further denies the suffocating images that his restless mind conjures—of a snake like Kris with the man he loves—and slowly leans closer to the queen of his night.

 

He closes the gap between them and stops only after he comes an inch or two away from letting the tips of their noses brush. He drops a glance to lips the color of soft pink petals, then he stares at the rose beginning to blossom in Dara's cheeks.

 

Finally, Chanyeol replies, "Now I am."

 

"Oh—"

 

There's a sudden loud crash—the noise of glass breaking after unceremoniously meeting the bar's ebony oak wood finish.

 

At his own client's worried urging, he stands. He watches Kris assist a wobbly Baekhyun to his feet, away from the hazardous patch of broken glass and spilled vodka. His former favourite rips his own gaze away from him just as he's looking. Baekhyun had been watching and it sends an unpleasant churning in his gut because now, Baekhyun needs someone to assist him and he can't be the one to provide it. It's the host's responsibility to guarantee their client's safety.

 

Baekhyun is Kris' responsibility tonight, whether he likes it or not. Kris now has a valid reason to have those _ﬁlthy_ hands around Baekhyun tonight, whether he likes it or not.

 

"Is he okay?" Dara asks, holding his arm after mistaking the crease in his features as an indication of the gravity of the little accident.

 

"He'll be ﬁne. Kris will make sure of it," He assures her albeit it doesn't make the last of the words taste less like ash on his tongue as he helps her to her feet and makes a quick visual sweep for anything she might forget.

 

The hour has just ended and he knows his time with Dara is also over, but Baekhyun doesn't know this.

 

His former lover glances at him with longing and he manages to catch it this time; notices the glassy eyes and ridiculously ﬂushed cheeks that he used to never let happen. He wants Baekhyun to know that he would rather not see him at all than see him with another man, the same way that Baekhyun is looking at him now; as if both accusing him and pleading for him to step away from Dara, and it utterly makes the ache return with a vengeance and Chanyeol feels himself torn between his duty and what his heart wants him to do.

 

To approach Baekhyun. To take him back. To tell him he can't stand to be in the same space but he can't stand to be away from him even more.

 

He's the ﬁrst one to look away—because he's a coward and he can't bear the pressure—and he disregards Baekhyun's unsteady stare boring into him along with Kris's unusual display of concern for the former, before he proceeds to escort Dara outside.

 

Maybe now, even if it's just a little, Baekhyun understands the difference between the host and the man who loved him.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

 _"You worry me, sometimes,"_ Dara stopped to tell him. _"You make me very happy, but I wonder if you still have time for your own dream when you're always so busy being everyone else's."_

 

Chanyeol stared at her then, just stared at her in a way that he hoped didn't betray the smile on his face.

 

Maybe it did. Maybe it didn't. Regardless, she merely pat his head, much like how older sisters pet the heads of baby brothers when a hug is too much, and returned his smile. Then she left, without him ever thinking of asking her to stay a little longer, even if it was just to talk for a while more like how it usually went.

 

Over the past months, his life has changed so much—his way of thinking, his priorities, the way he regarded reality in relation to what he wants and what's real—and it's in moments like this, facing the hours he's free to choose between two sides of himself; of which he would rather be, that he ﬁnds himself just wanting some sort of familiarity, consistency, just something that will ease the feeling of being lost. He feels like he needs to trace back his steps and rediscover the Chanyeol who was at peace with being called by another name, the one who only cared about how much money he could get at the end of every night without compromising himself.

 

He can probably go as far as saying he's been using Dara and the rest of his lavish patrons for his own selﬁsh reasons, because he's desperate to regain a sense of who he was before he met just one man, but it's something he'll never admit. Not with words. At least, not with his own and deﬁnitely not aloud. Pride has always been his biggest ﬂaw, after all, whether or not he gloriﬁes it by calling it conﬁdence.

 

He crosses his arms, both in muddled thoughts and impatience, while he waits for the elevator to ﬁnally descend to the parking’s lobby.

 

In it are Suho hyung and his senior's client, a young man who doesn't quite know what to do with himself until the older host reminds him to drive safely home. He ﬁnds it surprising that Suho personally served as an escort for this stranger, but he supposes it's not his business and he doesn't really need to know. Only the dimpled client steps off the elevator, leaving the two hosts to embark on the journey back to the lounge.

 

"Are you signing out?" Suho asks, back straight and form regal, fully contradicting the twinge of friendly warmth in the man's voice.

 

Chanyeol answers an unsure ‘ _Yes_ ’, partly because he doesn't want to see any more of Baekhyun with a man like Kris and partly because he doesn't want to know what he'll end up doing if he stays.

 

"You were distracted," Suho speaks again just as the elevator makes a chime, signaling them passing the ﬁrst ﬂoor.

 

"Is that another guess?" He really must have been quite obvious to have two individuals point it out.

 

"It's an observation," the older man rectiﬁes. "She's very kind to not have reprimanded you for it."

 

"I wouldn't have waited for her to," He only says, neither conﬁrming nor explicitly rejecting what started this conversation.

 

"Indeed. You're professional up to that extent."

 

Without turning, he shoots a glance of inquisition at the host across him.

 

Second ﬂoor.

 

"'Up to that extent'?" Chanyeol questions, mind suddenly ﬁlled with thoughts of Baekhyun—instigated by their nights, sweetened by the unofﬁcial dates, only to spiral down to the memory of the bitter arguments they've had—and he pushes them all away with an unmasked scowl. "My work and my life are entirely separate."

 

"Your life _is_ your work, Zampano," his senior patiently replies, overlooking his hostility yet again. "It's not wrong to take a bit of a time off for yourself."

 

"Just what is it that you really want to say, hyung?"

 

"Nothing you haven't heard before."

 

"Which is?"

 

"Is this what you really want?" Suho echoes. "Maybe you're doing the right thing. That in itself is doing yourself good but, perhaps, you forget that making yourself happy is the right thing to do, as well."

 

Chanyeol exhales then, deeply and heavily, before he quietly asks, "And what is it that you believe makes me happy?"

 

Suho's lips quirk into a small smile, sympathetic and paternal once again, as the man simply answers, "Baekhyun."

 

Just that.

 

Just the utterance of one name and all his defenses crumble.

 

The third chime comes and, all too easily, it drowns out the sound reminding Chanyeol of the chink in his armor and the cracks left by another man on his walls.

 

"But I can't have him," he struggles to say when both of his throat and chest are tight.

 

It's overwhelming. All the contradictions inside him, each memory of having made his past prayers, and his wave of insecurities; of not being good enough, absolutely not good enough, and they all terrify him. He doesn't want to get hurt any more than this.

 

He's terriﬁed of being hurt any more than this.

 

"Is he not worth it then?" Suho asks him next.

 

Not worth another try? Not worth another chance? Is Baekhyun not worth the pain?

 

"Of course he is," His mouth answers for him without hesitation, just with a sharp pang in his heart because it's the undeniably haunting truth.

 

Of course, he believed Baekhyun was worth it. Baekhyun is worth everything. He just can't _have_ Baekhyun and that's another colder truth.

 

 _Welcome to Dream_ , the elevator chimes, and Suho stops him to raise one ﬁnal argument, "Believe me, he wouldn't have done any of this for anyone else."

 

Nobody who didn't care would have come here almost every night simply to be rejected. No client would give a host that much power over them; wouldn't have that much patience; wouldn't wait that long when they can hire someone else. And yet, Baekhyun did.

 

Baekhyun waited for him every night; watched him come and leave with beautiful strangers draped on his arm; never used what he was against him and never hired anyone else until there was no other way to see him, just for something, one small and hopeful chance, that might not ever come.

 

But these are all assumptions again. Just other people interpreting things on their own again. Him believing what he wants to believe _again_.

 

"Chanyeol," Not Zampano. "Will you talk to him?"

 

"I..." Chanyeol trails off, at a loss for words, and the conﬂict inside him only forces him to release yet another helpless sigh.

 

The decision is made for him once they have entered the lounge again.

 

It feels emptier without the company of his own client, but it's not what sends a chill coursing through him. It's the fact that the bar has been cleared of broken glass and vodka; that there's only a vacant booth save for the bottles of whiskey and vodka left on the counter. His heart drops at the quick realization that _they're_ missing.

 

 _Baekhyun_ is missing.

 

"Where is he?" Chanyeol questions with a frantic survey of the place, heart drumming with newfound dread. "Where are they?"

 

"Oh, Kris said he'd let Baekhyun lay down until he's sober—"

 

He doesn't even have to hear the rest before stumbling back, turning back, and yanking the doors open again.

 

Chanyeol runs past the bouncer, towards the elevator, and almost breaks his own copy of his keycard when he slams a ﬁst for the ﬁfth ﬂoor.

 

He forces air into his lungs. He’s also trying to unclench his knuckles before they turn completely white because _god_ his hands are ice, but the mere fact that Baekhyun is with _Kris_ makes him break out in cold sweat. He shuts his eyes, he curses everything under his breath—the pace of the damn elevator, the torturous seconds, himself—and wrenches the loop of the neck tie from his neck.

 

Chanyeol is desperately hoping that he's truly _just_ overreacting this time. That there's nothing to worry about. That Kris isn't as a _massive_ douchebag that the man's reputation makes him out to be, for Kris' own sake, because he doesn't know what he'll do if—

 

 _Have a nice Dream_ , the lift sings as soon as he reaches the bachelors' ﬂoor.

 

But all Chanyeol ﬁnds is another nightmare slowly coming true. Every part of himself bristles at the cold slamming down on him, the very moment he recognizes the ﬁgures of two men at the end of the corridor where Kris' room is located.

 

He... can't feel his legs, and it's just so cold—everything, _everywhere_ —when he takes tentative steps towards the end and recognizes the smaller ﬁgure trapped underneath Kris as Baekhyun, pressed against the wall and seemingly edging unconsciousness with his head lolled to a side; every part of him vulnerable to being marked and to the hands wandering and groping, one beneath a shirt that has ridden too high and the other inside the pants that have been wrenched half-way down thighs; squirming to get away.

 

"Don't touch him," Chanyeol growls, the cold rapidly turning into fuel catching ﬁre. He sees Baekhyun's face scrunch; sees his favorite reject a kiss and crumple forward when the ﬁlthy fucking hands slither down to Baekhyun's back to press their bodies together, and he swears he fucking sees red as he roars, _"You step the_ fuck _away from him!"_

 

By the time his senior notices him fast approaching, he has already destroyed too much of the distance; already too close to be shoved away; already grabbing another host's suit and halfway into throwing the ﬁrst punch. There's a _crunch_ after the impact, the gross noise of a nose breaking underneath his balled ﬁst, then another. And another. And another.

 

He wouldn't have stopped if he hadn't lost his grip and inadvertently frees Kris, who skids and crashes feet away from them, without anything to break the latter's fall.

 

From behind him, Baekhyun makes a whimper, a small noise crossing a short groan and an ever shorter whine, as the man's back slides down to the carpet after having lost the support of another body. The singer slumps against the wall, sitting like a rag doll and eyes ﬂuttering open, only managing to look so lost and more confused.

 

Chanyeol steps back. He heaves breath after heavy breath, glancing at his sunbae's disoriented form, at his trembling ﬁsts uncurling into trembling hands, then ﬁnally at Baekhyun, for whom he immediately drops to his knees.

 

He pushes the matted hair from his former lover's forehead and wipes the sweat with the pad of his thumb before it could reach one eye. There simply is not enough air to breathe to relieve the clawing inside his own chest. While he struggles to smooth Baekhyun's shirt down to cover the exposed skin and the evidence of some other man's lips having touched it, Baekhyun stares at him with much difﬁculty and a haze in those glassy eyes, trying very hard to recognize him and even stopping him from pulling his ex-lover's pants up and doing the zipper.

 

Then, Baekhyun just breaks like a dam, just begins to cry so much, even slapping his hands and face away while insisting about returning downstairs; about going back to the lobby because _‘I have to wait for Chanyeol.’_

 

"It's me, Baekhyun. It's me," Chanyeol reassures, feeling his heart break all over again as he discovers new ways to hurt; from the desperation in Baekhyun's choked voice to the way his favourite stares at him after ﬁnally realizing it's really him who's cupping the man's ﬂushed cheeks with his icy and trembling hands and whispering promises to take them both home soon, _very soon._

 

Baekhyun reeks of Kris’s cologne and the stench of liquor, something he knows Baekhyun avoids, and is too out of it to even continue looking at him; only slumps against his chest after mouthing incomprehensible things and clings to him with the tightest embrace. His former lover feels ridiculously warm beneath his hands and in his arms.

 

Chanyeol would rather be consumed than risk breaking this small and fragile man who still only thinks of him at this moment. Even returning the embrace and hugging Baekhyun too tightly terriﬁes him, but he's even more terriﬁed of letting Baekhyun go now. The fact that Kris—his sunbae, his hyung, someone who should _know_ better—mindfully planned to take Baekhyun to bed in this state, on top of Baekhyun's constant rejections, only manages to anger him even more. So, _so_ much more.

 

"Ah, still playing knight in shining armor," he hears the devil stir, groaning out of a stupor and later chuckling after Kris discovers the damp red on his own palm. "No one likes a jealous ex, don't you know?"

 

"Go fuck yourself," Chanyeol growls at him, trying to calm himself so that he doesn't shout and scare Baekhyun even more, but he can't help it. He can't fucking help it.

 

How dare Kris do this to Baekhyun. How dare _anyone_ do this to Baekhyun.

 

"Oh... your favourite was just about to help me with that…"

 

"You're so fucking desperate for someone who doesn't want you," Chanyeol sweeps Baekhyun off the ﬂoor and hisses at the piece of shit pushing himself up, narrowing his eyes into a cutthroat glare before spitting a clear threat, "Come closer and I'll break more than your fucking nose."

 

"Man... why are you so angry?" His senior only laughs; a raspy laugh that grates in his ears and is all too happy to get further under his skin and make his blood boil. "Are you _that_ mad over being replaced?"

 

Kris licks the blood off his own lips, decisively throwing a lewd glance at the unconscious man in his arms.

 

"Are you that mad because he chose me over you?" Chanyeol answers and watches a frown stretch itself over the other's bust lip, remembering each and every time he had caught the older man cornering Baekhyun in the past, and he swears if Baekhyun's well-being wasn't his priority right now, there would be little else to stop him from completely beating the skin off this bastard's face.

 

It doesn't matter if Kris is his senior. It doesn't matter whether his bones break as well, as long as he gets to break Kris's ﬁrst so those disgusting hands never touch Baekhyun or _anyone_ again. It wouldn't matter for as long as he knows no one will hurt Baekhyun again.

 

When Baekhyun whimpers once again and buries himself into the crook of his neck, Chanyeol forces himself to breathe but continues to scowl. He takes a step back, and another. He does this until they're near the elevator and he punches ‘down’, without taking his glare off the other host, who now reciprocates the dangerous glint in his eyes but doesn't anymore dare to question the validity of his threat.

 

He's prepared for a brawl. Hell, he's prepared for so much more if Kris even thinks of approaching either of them, especially after this.

 

"He looks like the type to love a cock in his mouth. He does, doesn't he?" Kris obnoxiously sneers at him, and the audacity of the asshole to continue talking makes him regret not having broken a full set of teeth, as well. "How hard does he take it? Don't be so selfish, at least tell me how rough he likes it!"

 

Chanyeol cradles Baekhyun closer to his chest, as if to protect the latter from hearing anything more, and repeats to himself that all he's hearing is rubbish from a man who can't compete with him; who wants the man in his arms solely because Baekhyun doesn't return the sentiment. God, if he hated Kris before, he fucking loathes the man now, with _every_ ﬁber of his being.

 

"We'll be home soon," He whispers into Baekhyun's ear again, just continues to whisper consoling things to drown out the noise of someone else.

 

"You're living up to your name, aren't you? Ya, Zampano, what will you steal next?!" He hears his sunbae yell again—a sly and sharp shot to where it hurts—before the elevator closes to cut the condescending laugh short and finally take them away.

 

It's an awfully muted journey to the parking.

 

It's just two hearts beating, the noise of so many clashing thoughts, and his mind screaming at him ‘ _You don't belong together’,_ over and over, as Chanyeol slowly—suddenly—remembers where the lines are drawn and that he's crossing them again.

 

He's been holding Baekhyun as tightly as Baekhyun is clinging to him because he doesn't want to ever let go either, even though he knows he will tomorrow. He should. One of them will be forced to be the first to let go because both of them _has_ to.

 

"Where are we going...?" Baekhyun murmurs to him, wrapping arms around his shoulders for another reassurance and for more warmth, which are just few of the many things he has always been so willing to give.

 

"Home, babe," Chanyeol answers and, while he does this, he also presses a tender kiss on Baekhyun's temple and blinks away the heat behind the lids of his own eyes. "Tonight, I'll take you home."

 

He knows he shouldn't, but what else is there for him when stolen moments and stolen kisses are all he can get...?

 

A thief.

 

That's what he is, isn't he?

 

A thief with an illicit dream and a foolish, hopeless wish for someone else's happy ending to be his.

 

The question is, Chanyeol begins to think, as he carefully tucks the man he loves in his passenger seat once they reach his car and after Baekhyun reluctantly lets him go, is whether or not thieves deserve a happy ending of their own.

 

The question left to answer is whether the ending he gets is one with Baekhyun...

 

Or not at all.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

It's vaguely familiar, pullIng up at his house's driveway deep into the night while there's a weight in his chest. Strange, still, but familiar now.

 

Just as carefully, he carries Baekhyun from his car and ventures inside, heading straight to his room so that his former lover can sleep more comfortably. The weariness in him—in his arms, his legs; in his mind, his heart—only sinks in after he has pushed past the dullness in his nerves and let the silence make a temporary abode in his thoughts just so he could lay Baekhyun down ﬁrst; just so he could give Baekhyun a place to rest away from people who dare to think of hurting him. He tries to memorize all the details that make up the person who somehow became his world, for as much and for as long as he can, while he brushes the soft albeit wayward locks of hair so they don't get in the way of Baekhyun's face.

 

Then, he ﬁnally pulls the comforter up. Baekhyun unwittingly releases a small sigh, ﬁdgeting and curling underneath the warmth like what little children do when they're happy to be tucked into bed.

 

"And you call me a puppy, hm?" Chanyeol smiles at the sight sombrely and for just a little while.

 

He ponders—no, worries—about what's been driving Baekhyun to come to him again. He thinks about how much of a colossal fool he truly is for taking someone else's man home again. Baekhyun isn't his in any way, but to him, Baekhyun is his responsibility. His to protect, his to love and his to care for in the other ways.

 

He'll allow himself this long moment, just this one last moment, to enjoy how Baekhyun's ﬁngers ﬁt in the spaces between his and how Baekhyun continues to hold his hand until he has to pry them apart because he won't let them share his bed. Not tonight, maybe not ever again. He knows for sure that this could very well be the last time he gets to look at Baekhyun like this, and the tremendous amount of envy he immediately feels towards D.O. only serves to make his heart ache again.

 

How incredibly lucky must that guy be to come home to Baekhyun every night, to wake up to Baekhyun's smile every morning…

 

If he had met Baekhyun earlier, he wonders if Baekhyun would have chosen him. He wonders if Baekhyun would have even looked at him at all.

 

And what if Baekhyun meets D.O. after meeting him? Would he still be begging and hoping for someone he can't have...? Or would he be more devastated for when Baekhyun still chooses D.O. over him? Because an actor is another liar, too, and, if they're both liars, he and D.O., then the only thing Chanyeol simply cannot compete with is the fact that he cannot ever be D.O.

 

But then again, if the choices were him and someone like D.O. then—

 

"No… No, I'll...  wait for you," He hears Baekhyun mumble in sleep, with that soft and warm tone that entices him to stay longer instead of scooting towards the edge of his own bed.

 

Chanyeol only cracks a wider smile at the single coherent sentence slipping out of those lips, even when his heart begins to weigh heavier with it; even if he has no absolute guarantee that the words are meant for him; even if he's so sure that after they talk the following morning, his life will never be the same again.

 

But for now, he'll allow himself to lean down again, close enough to whisper, “Good night, babe.”

 

He plants a kiss on Baekhyun's forehead and the hand he has to stop holding, but not on the lips because he's not going to steal moments anymore. He's tired of being the thief. He’s tired of being the other man and of being _just_ the dirty secret.

 

The next time he kisses Baekhyun, he wants Baekhyun to be awake and sober to kiss him back; to know how terriﬁed out of his wits he is to be so madly in love with this man and yet, even more terriﬁed of the thought of not being madly in love with Baekhyun.

 

Chanyeol ﬁnally admits to himself that, all this time, he has been hoping—fervently, desperately—that, somehow, he would be the man that Baekhyun chooses to be with.

 

He'll listen to what Baekhyun has to say tomorrow, whether it's an explanation of what they actually were or an apology for what they cannot be; whether Baekhyun will choose to cleanly break his heart the next time they both wake up.

 

He'll be brave tomorrow.

 

Enough to listen...

 

And, hopefully, enough to really say goodbye.

 

 

 

❀

 

 

 

Chanyeol is reminded that his leather couch is far from being the best place to sleep in when he cracks his eyes open at around eight in the morning.

 

He feels the exhaustion down to his seemingly heavier bones, but he forces his limbs off the cursed thing so he can start to check up on Baekhyun upstairs. His neck and shoulders are sore. The discomfort is enough to cause the frown on his face, he's simply not entirely awake yet to care.

 

There are a handful of things that he realizes on the way to his kitchen for aspirin and a glass of water to help with Baekhyun's deﬁnite hangover.

 

The first is the fact that he stupidly fell asleep halfway into taking off his uniform—his suit—which is _essentially_ his uniform, and now it bore horrifying creases all over. Somewhere between the first and the hundredth is the rare moment that he even considers the possibility that might actually not look so handsome all the time, especially with his mussed hair sticking up in all directions until he smoothens it with a hand. The last part isn't as important as realizing Baekhyun is already awake and is propped on his kitchen counter, looking lost in thought while settled on one of his tall stools.

 

Scratch that, it's not important at all.

 

"Hey," Chanyeol greets with concealed uneasiness as he wipes the frown of his own face and stares at the beautiful face of a dazed man. "How are you feeling?"

 

Baekhyun seems to sober up at the sight of him, somehow, albeit with a stubborn sort of solemnity in his features before answering, "I'm ﬁne. How about you?"

 

 _‘You don't look fine,’_ he doesn't say. "What about me?"

 

"You slept on the couch when you could've just..."

 

"You needed the bed more than I did," Chanyeol replies as he runs a hand through his hair again, discreetly smoothing himself out because he's a little nervous and, quite frankly, unprepared for any talk involving emotion ﬁrst thing in the morning. "Did you really think I'd just leave you to pass out on the ﬂoor?"

 

But he supposes it's a gesture that can easily be misinterpreted as being born out of frustration because Baekhyun's gaze leaves him to drop to those ﬁdgety, slender ﬁngers tapping the counter.

 

"I didn't think you would… I caused you trouble again, I'm sorry."

 

Now, apologies don't sit well with Chanyeol at all. He doesn't like them in general, especially when they're from the mouth of someone he... especially when the apology comes from someone he wants to talk to and laugh with again, just like before they started having sex and before feelings made everything much more complicated. He just… he just doesn't _see_ the point in receiving an apology for something he wanted to do.

 

If their roles were reversed and if it were Baekhyun who had taken him home, saying sorry would simply be the last thing to come into his mind.

 

"How much do you remember?" Chanyeol asks, and the words sound a tad angrier and accusing than he originally intended them to be.

 

"Up until you left," Baekhyun says with an obvious sense of shame in his voice.

 

Up until his session with Dara ended. Up until that shot glass broke. Up until he made the stupid and careless mistake of leaving Baekhyun with Kris.

 

The host suppresses a sigh at this and chooses to keep moving, grabbing cheap coffee mix that he never really drinks and two mugs. He knows how Baekhyun likes his coffee, but straight up milk is probably better for his former favourite this morning. It's a reasonable enough distraction, preparing breakfast, until he realizes ten minutes is just one ridiculously prolonged minute of trying not to notice and think about how Baekhyun is staring at his back and himself wanting to both talk and run.

 

Chanyeol doesn't know how they're going to start this. Despite his resolve last night, he... isn't ready right now. At all. It's deafening inside his head when every question demands to be voiced out all at the same time, each of them desperate for answers.

 

Where does he even begin to ask?

 

"Who were you with last night?"

 

It's Baekhyun who breaks the silence ﬁrst and, when Chanyeol braves a glance, Baekhyun's eyes are still downcast; still far away from him.

 

"A client. You've probably already met somewhere. The entertainment industry isn't that big," he answers, pretending he doesn't notice the way Baekhyun's hands are ﬁdgeting while he hands a glass of water and the hangover pills to the only client he ever brought into his own home.

 

"Do you like her?" Baekhyun speaks again.

 

If Chanyeol thinks too hard about it, he might even get to convince himself that Baekhyun intentionally follows the trail of his hand after he placed the mug of warmed milk between them; that there is almost a hint of resignation in the man's voice.

 

"...What do you want to hear?"

 

"The truth."

 

"No," He replies, noticing the tiniest breath that his former client makes, then he adds shortly after, "I don't like her."

 

Not the same way as he likes the person in front of him. No matter how fond he still is of Dara, like and love are two entirely different things. Baekhyun must know that, right?

 

The quiet returns too quickly.

 

Chanyeol hates it. It just isn't the same kind of quiet that he's used to. The longer they spend avoiding each other and the one thing they both know are hovering over them, the more he ﬁnds his thoughts wandering to the man waiting for Baekhyun at home.

 

Truthfully, he's sick and tired of this. So much. And yet, for some reason, he still feels numb. He feels both empty and overwhelmed, just... stuck in a place he can't quite ﬁgure out.

 

He tries very hard to keep his own tone neutral when he asks, "Why were you with Kris?"

 

"I... I couldn't... I was—" Baekhyun stammers at ﬁrst, biting down on a lip before exhaling. "I was desperate to see you."

 

"You could've asked anyone else."

 

"No one else wanted to help me get in. Kai wasn't scheduled last night. Suho was booked. There wasn't anyone else."

 

"You could've approached me after getting in."

 

"I wanted to. Believe me, I did, but you looked so happy with her and I... I just didn't want to take that away from you. You were working, you were busy, so... so I chose to wait. Kris was the only one who agreed to keep me company until your session ended," Baekhyun explains, making a quick and frustrated wipe across his eyes. "I couldn't continue watching you. But I also couldn't bring myself to leave. Every time I felt like going to you, Kris distracted me. I thought... I really believed he sincerely wanted to help."

 

"No, he just wanted to—” Chanyeol doesn't hold back his sigh this time. “You should've—you should've left him, Baekhyun. He was... you have no idea how much of a—" then he pauses, unable to ﬁnd the right words, or any for that matter.

 

He didn't have enough words to form a coherent sentence that doesn't make things worse; that doesn't terrify him by confirming the possibility of what might've happened had he been too late last night. He didn't have any words at all. So instead, he ﬁnds himself sighing again and more deeply with the added weight of the afterimage having already engraved itself behind the lids of his eyes.

 

"What if something happened to you?" Chanyeol questions as he runs a hand through his hair and drops his own gaze down to the space between him and Baekhyun.

 

Just a little more and he'd be brushing against Baekhyun's tender hands. The man he loves is sitting just across him, staring at the band-aid stuck on one of his knuckles… at him from the other side of the counter. If he could just get himself to move, he would be able to explain more without talking.

 

Baekhyun will know just how much last night scared him. Baekhyun will know that he still cares, he cares a whole damn lot, even though pushing away is all he has managed to do lately. He kept forcing distance between them, just kept forcing himself to forget, but he couldn't do it until the end.

 

He couldn't stay away from Baekhyun in the end so… here he is now.

 

Still the pining knight in armor, now with a bruised knuckle.

 

Only for Byun Baekhyun.

 

"I'm sorry. I remember you shouting. For you to shout at someone, you must have been so scared," Baekhyun tells him, brave enough to be the one to reach out to him and caress his cheek in a manner so gentle that it reminds him that no man—no one—is ever so strong when it comes to the person they love trying to offer comfort. “I'm sorry I scared and worried you so much last night.”

 

"You know I would do more for you," Chanyeol replies, voice barely above a whisper.

 

He isn't sure if he actually said it because there's no indication of the other having heard it. He can't keep his gaze forward long enough to catch the change on Baekhyun's expression. He... wouldn't call it embarrassment. It's just... strange... being this quiet and so near while Baekhyun continues to stare at him, in that way that has always made him want to make any amount of distance between them disappear.

 

Chanyeol wants to lean closer so badly, but even his own body prevents him from doing it; as if also afraid of the consequences. The amount of hesitation is such an overwhelming invisible force. He can't stand the pressure to stay, not like this, but he doesn't want to leave and let Baekhyun out of his sight just as much.

 

He shuts his eyes, feeling like he's the one to get a hangover instead.

 

Ah…

 

What is he supposed to do...?

 

Baekhyun makes a small smile then, holding his chin up and gently poking the troubled knot he didn't know existed between his brows.

 

"Is this the part where you kick me out?" the man asks while the mugs are set aside. "I asked you this the ﬁrst time I came here. And you did this, too… do you remember?"

 

"How can I forget?" Chanyeol mutters as he catches the small wrist, lowering it so it doesn't get in the way of looking at Baekhyun.

 

He can stare at anything else, really, but not at someone like Baekhyun for so long. At least, right now he can't. Not without wanting to be even closer.

 

He's not sure whether closer is the right thing to be right now.

 

"Thank you for always thinking about me, Chanyeol," he hears next, then the hands are both cupping his cheeks and helping him keep his gaze straight when his own courage isn't enough for it. "You do, don't you?"

 

Of course he does, there simply isn't a day that passes him by without him thinking of the man in front of him at least once. Thoughts like, _‘I wish Baekhyun could see this’,_ ‘ _Baekhyun will surely like this’,_ and _‘I want to try this with Baekhyun’..._ they've become so common now that he can't imagine being without them. He doesn't want to be without them. It's just that, every time he ever tries to voice those things out, the words get stuck in his throat.

 

"I promise I won't take much of your time," Baekhyun says, staring at him in the same way that the man would stare at him every midnight; without the desperate kisses or the warm hugs, just a pair of eyes and an unfathomable secret. "Will you listen to what I have to say...?"

 

"...I'll listen," Chanyeol forces himself to reply even if it scares him to.

 

Somewhere, at the back of his mind, he still thinks this might be the last time he'll see Baekhyun. It might be the last time he'll hear Baekhyun's voice, the last time he gets to hold Baekhyun's hands like this and Baekhyun looks at him this warmly.

 

But Baekhyun looks afraid, too. Not as much as those times when he told the former to get out of Dream, not as much as when Baekhyun watched him almost kiss Dara, but enough to remind him they both had a choice during those moments. He chose to be harsher with his words and Baekhyun chose to keep trying again and still waited for him afterwards.

 

Maybe Baekhyun is afraid he'll change his mind. Maybe neither of them has recovered enough for this. Maybe they're both afraid of fucking up this time.

 

Chanyeol knows he deﬁnitely is.

 

"Come with me," Baekhyun tugs at his hand and begins to pull him away from the counter.

 

If he thinks about it, it's almost funny how he's being led anywhere by someone much smaller. If he were a real puppy, he wouldn't mind being led to any place like this. He’d willingly follow Baekhyun anywhere.

 

Baekhyun's hand is ﬁrmly holding one of his, tight enough to tell him he's not allowed to run, let alone to try. He doesn't dare squeeze back, though, even if he ﬁnds Baekhyun's hold relaxing. It's more reassuring, really, if he would only let his defenses drop completely.

 

But he won't.

 

He can't.

 

Not yet.

 

"You're too tall. Sit here," Baekhyun points at his couch, the same couch that he immediately frowns at for putting the crick in his neck. "I want you to be comfortable for this."

 

 _‘Why?’_ is the question that easily comes to mind. Nonetheless, Chanyeol obliges and settles onto the designated space, even scooting to make plenty of more room.

 

His former client doesn't sit beside him, though. Baekhyun doesn't sit at all. He ﬁnds this baffling, then scary, especially when the hand in his starts to slip out of his grasp and the step Baekhyun takes from him tricks him into believing that Baekhyun will try to leave; fools his heart into missing a beat; scares him into grabbing Baekhyun's arm and pulling the man back to him.

 

Chanyeol becomes more aware of his parched throat and the slight trembling in his hands after he's meeting small eyes that are blinking at him in surprise and glancing at his hold.

 

He doesn't get to follow up with an apology as Baekhyun suddenly cracks a tiny smile at him, nose scrunching slightly in delight, before he's lowering his eyes because Baekhyun kneels in front of him next to ask, "What did you say?"

 

"I-I didn't say anything."

 

_Did I?_

 

"You did," His old client insists while reaching for his hands, both of them, and looks up at him. "You said 'don't go.'"

 

Chanyeol exhales, a sound torn between a choked cry and a self-depreciating laugh.

 

Ah, this is ridiculous.

 

But he's not going to deny it. Why should he? He already spent so much of his time in denial, so this time, he echoes, "Don't go," and lets ﬁngers ﬁll the spaces between his.

 

"I'll be right here then," his former lover promises while linking their hands, even peeking from below him in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I promise I'll stay."

 

 _‘Stop that,’_ he wants to say when Baekhyun just starts staring again, giving him no choice but to look at those bright eyes too and remember what beauty looks like; what adoring someone feels like. _‘I'm already too in love with you.’_

 

"Chanyeol, I..." Baekhyun begins to speak, still holding his hands and massaging his palms as if the man could read his thoughts and is now trying to cast away his doubts; to soothe him, somehow. "Before anything, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I made you feel used. I'm so sorry that you've been holding back so much, all this time. No matter how many times I say it, I know apologizing will never be enough for what I put you through."

 

At this, he feels Baekhyun squeeze his hand again, just a little, and he forces a tiny, uneasy smile on his lips. "But...?"

 

"There is no 'but,'" Baekhyun answers immediately with a resolute smile and a brush of a kiss on each of his tense knuckles. "Your clients were right to call you a dream, Chanyeol."

 

_But what good is being their dream when you're mine and I can't make 'us' real?_

 

Chanyeol used to wonder if the little spaces in everyone's hands were there so everyone would hold someone's else's; if everyone in the world had someone made solely for them and having two hands was for keeping that particular person close after you ﬁnally ﬁnd them. He wants to believe Baekhyun was made for him, but he also knows only fools mistake truths for wants and for wishes. Only fools would willingly delude themselves the way he did and still cling to hope after they've been crushed over and over again.

 

"Ah..." Baekhyun must have noticed—that he really can't keep up with the lies any further, that he's just so sick of paying the price for his mask anymore—because the man stands, leans closer to him, and reaches for his unruly bed-hair, pushing the locks away from his face to tuck them behind his ear.

 

Then, Baekhyun asks him, "Are you scared...?" with that kind of softness in tone and voice that used to keep him up at night for an entirely different reason.

 

And really, neither of them really needs to ask beyond that. There's no need for ‘ _Of what’_ or more ‘ _Why’s_ because the pinpricks coming back to his eyes are already answering for him.

 

Chanyeol hates it. He's being too obvious and he hates it, but he can't really do anything about it when he's already exhaling a fragile, "Yes."

 

The admission is all that it takes for everything to start sinking in—the ache in his chest, the cold that won't leave his palms, the noise of thoughts and screams in his head—and he knows he is.

 

He's scared. He's fucking terriﬁed. He doesn't want an ending without Baekhyun, and so, when Baekhyun comes even closer to him, it's just impossible not to want to reach out for Baekhyun, too; impossible not to want to pull Baekhyun into his arms again when he wants to keep Baekhyun there forever.

 

He wants Baekhyun. He wants to be with Baekhyun. He wants his ending to be Baekhyun.

 

The next thing Baekhyun tells him is, "You don't have to be scared anymore," then there's something falling out of his eyes, a thumb that is quick to wipe it away, and arms wrapping around his shoulders before Baekhyun is cupping his face again.

 

"But D.O..." Chanyeol rasps, biting down on his own lip because it hurts to swallow and he really, _really_ hates being this vulnerable in front of anyone.

 

"He isn't my boyfriend anymore," he hears Baekhyun pick up after him, breath warm against his. "We already broke up, Yeol. D.O. and I are over. "

 

_D.O. and I are over._

 

Chanyeol can clearly see those lips mouth those exact words, silencing everything else, yet the words utterly refuse to be understood. He ends up searching for the lies—any lie—in the eyes looking back at him, but the world suddenly blurs so he blinks fervently to bring things back to normal but it doesn't. The world is still a mess and he—

 

Why the hell are his eyes hot...? He sighs, pushes Baekhyun away to wipe the wetness from his eyes, only to discover two more of the tears following after each one.

 

It won't stop… the tears won't stop. It's harder and more painful to breathe when he feels something catch in his throat—a painful lump, a salty tear or a hundred, hell maybe it's his heart making good on its threat to ﬁnally burst—but he knows he's beyond breathless and a new kind of helpless. The pain in his chest still hurts so much, but at the back of his mind, he knows it isn't entirely a bad thing anymore.

 

_They broke up._

 

_They're over._

 

_It's too good to be true._

 

 _It's just_ too good _to be true._

 

"Why?" He asks, this time for sure it's only a whisper because his mouth is acting faster than his mind can begin comprehend.

 

The answer he gets is a tight embrace and head to rest on his shoulder, then a gentle, "Because I love you. Because I choose you," and even after he's warm enough again and he stops trembling, Baekhyun still repeats, "I love you, Chanyeol, only a fool wouldn't fall in love with you, and I'm sorry you waited so long to hear me tell you this."

 

Chanyeol sees a smile before his eyes are ﬂuttering close, because it's the most natural reaction to Baekhyun leaning so close to him and tangling ﬁngers into his hair until the distance disappears, inch by inch; almost until their lips brush and there's nowhere else to hide. Instead of shying away, this time he leans further back into the couch, letting himself be trapped by Baekhyun's arms and weight on his lap while he grasps more ﬁrmly around the subtle curves of the man's waist.

 

"Is this what you've wanted to tell me...?" He asks, mind and hands numb. "Is this why you've been waiting for me?"

 

"Yes," He gets a soft kiss on his forehead and an even softer, "I'll wait for you until you're ready."

 

That's it.

 

The last straw that breaks all his walls down and silences the all the terrible thoughts for good.

 

He's not some other man anymore.

 

He's not _just_ a secret anymore.

 

He's not a thief anymore.

 

Chanyeol crumbles with a choked sob and a shaky breath because ﬁnally, _ﬁnally_ he gets to say it. Out loud. With his own words. Without fearing that Baekhyun will leave and never come back because he's not the man who should say it.

 

"I love you," He sighs, the words rolling off his tongue as naturally as his heart leaps at the sight of Baekhyun's little, self-conscious smile; at the disappearance of the gap between the tips of their noses and its transformation into a lingering, open-mouthed kiss. "I love you."

 

He's ﬁnally free and it feels incredible, so, _so_ unbelievably incredible, and nothing else suddenly seems to matter.

 

Not the discomfort of having to make himself smaller in his cheap couch, not having his breath stolen again and again every time Baekhyun lets himself be kissed by him, and deﬁnitely not the way his heart is racing and trying to jump out of its own cage because Baekhyun is making a small laugh against his lips and the sound is just _so beautiful_ that it reminds him how impossible forgetting someone like Byun Baekhyun is.

 

Chanyeol feels so... happy that it's almost surreal. It even starts to scare him because it feels wrong to be this happy, as if he doesn't deserve this, but Baekhyun tells him he _does_ and just wraps arms around his waist to comfort him again before any of the awful insecurities can come back; to remind him this is all real and not another dream or a deceitful nightmare; that neither of them has to say goodbye because the ending he gets is the ending where he is Baekhyun's, as well.

 

Baekhyun chooses _him_.

 

Baekhyun _loves_ him.

 

"It feels good to say it, doesn't it?" Baekhyun chuckles, the beautiful sound only second to a genuine laughter.

 

Chanyeol nods, smiling in a way that makes his ears red and his lips curve strangely, maybe too widely, because he's still torn between crying even more and laughing, too, until his mouth is being preoccupied and they're kissing again. He can't get enough of it. He can't ever get enough of Baekhyun whose eyes are starting to turn a little red, too, so he kisses the tears away, kisses the tip of a button nose, and then kisses Baekhyun's lips with as much love as he can possibly convey and give.

 

Somewhere between parting to kiss again; to watching Baekhyun's eyes ﬂutter open and eyeing the red blossom on Baekhyun's lips, a phone rings and begs for their attention. Then there are two. For a short moment, he even remembers the scrambled eggs sitting patiently in his kitchen, probably cold now with the mugs of milk and coffee after they've been forgotten, but he hears Baekhyun mutter, "Not important," and it's more than enough to convince him to focus on the present and on _just_ this moment.

 

They can both call back later and talk about everything else after this.

 

"Stay," Chanyeol says, and he makes it clear that he doesn't mean _just_ for the day while he presses a kiss on Baekhyun's shoulder and wraps the man in an embrace.

 

"I will."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **FIN.**
> 
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> 
> Thank you for reading 'Yenicall'!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. If you have any questions or would just like to share your thoughts and feelings regarding the fic, drop a comment. Ramblings and feelings are very much welcome! If you're shy, you can talk to me on [**Twitter**](https://twitter.com/viyeolent) or **[Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/viyeolent)** instead~ :D
> 
> Links that may be of interest:  
> [Yenicall (original)](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1088650) at AFF / [Zampano (on-going)](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1220222) at AFF / my *[Fic Masterlist](http://viyeolent.livejournal.com/728.html)
> 
> *Some fics are exclusively posted on Ao3, others on AFF. I only use those two platforms in addition to Livejournal as **viyeolent**. Thank you. :D


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